


Diversions

by sparrow2000



Series: Perceptions 'verse [2]
Category: BtVS - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-02
Updated: 2011-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-17 11:53:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrow2000/pseuds/sparrow2000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of S3, Spike and Xander are finally on the road – sort of..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Diversions 1: Catch Me If You Can

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second story in the Perceptions 'verse series.  
> Disclaimer: Joss and Mutant Enemy et al own all. I own nothing and make no profit from this story  
> Any music referenced in this story is done so with the greatest respect for the composer. Again, no profit is made.
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings: This story is slash, so make an assumption that you will encounter boy/boy action. I will warn specifically on individual chapters if there is anything other than slash that might upset people.**

_  
**Diversions 1: Catch me if you Can  
Warnings: gratuitous use of the word ‘pet’ and naughty boy fondling  
Beta extraordinaire: [](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/profile)[**thismaz**](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/)  
**   
_

“Come on pet, play nice. Give it up for Spike. You know you want to. You know I could always just take it.” I slide towards him and he moves away, keeping the car between us. “Pet, you know you’re not going to win. Would be easier if you just gave in now. Before someone gets hurt.” He’s watching me like a hawk, searching for every twitch indicating which way I’m going to move. Good boy. Knew he learned so beautifully.

 _“Oh no. No giving it up for the big bad vamp. You made your bed, so you can lie on it and that so wasn’t the right metaphor for this type of situation.”_

 _There’s a hundred witty ripostes just queuing up in my head, but in the end it’s just too easy. I settle for raking my eyes down the length of his body and a perfectly timed lift of the eyebrow, and oh yeah, that worked very nicely. He might as well have “prey” tattooed on his forehead and I can hear his heart pounding a mile a minute. I’ve said it before, but he really is so cute when he’s all hot and flustered. Hair tangled and getting in his eyes and just a sheen of sweat across his face from the warm night air. I move slowly to the right, circling round the front of the car and he backs away cautiously, eyes fixed on my face as we continue the dance._

 _“Spike, remind me again, why exactly we've stopped in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night? If we push on now, we could be in LA in a couple of hours, before it gets light and vamps start getting on the burnt side of crispy. And I don’t understand why we didn’t just go up the freeway. Why all the twists and turns and back roads?” He’s still watching me warily, but I can tell his curiosity’s getting the better of him and it’ll make a nice little distraction._

 _“That’s easy, love. I needed a little bit of exercise. The driver needs to stretch his... legs, now and again, you know.” I’m sure I can hear a muttered snort and a ‘yeah, right’, but when I glare at the boy he looks the picture of innocence - so I definitely heard right! “And, I need to cover my tracks. It’s another lesson you should learn. Who knows what saw me leaving that shit hole of a town of yours? The Crombec in the garage won’t say anything; better bloody not after the wad I gave him. But the Hellmouth has eyes all over the sodding place. When you’ve lived as long as I have, you make the odd enemy here and there. No need for anyone to know my business. Especially with Peaches heading for LA. And I don’t see why you have to go to LA now, anyway. You could always do it on the way back. It’s not like the city’s going to disappear into a big hole overnight.”_

 _“Spike, I’ve been through this. The new rollercoaster at Magic Mountain opens tomorrow. That’s the whole point of going to LA. I saved up and got tickets and everything. And if you hadn’t _sabotaged_ my car... “ He grins as he emphasises the ‘S’ word, and I’m gearing up to answer back, but he’s already started again.. “Oh no. No interrupting when I’ve actually got a point. I know it doesn’t happen very often, so I’m going to take full advantage.” He looks like it’s his birthday or something and I have to stop myself from grinning back at him. “If you hadn’t sabotaged my car, _you_ wouldn’t have to go to LA. You offered, remember? It won’t be the same in a couple of months. I mean, thousands of people will have been on it and it’ll just be another ride. But tomorrow; tomorrow it’ll be an event. Like a little bit of history, you know.”_

His eyes are shining and the enthusiasm is just bubbling out of him. He’s still such a contradiction. So young and full of joyful naivety one minute and so old and experienced the next. Suppose that’s what I find so damn fascinating. He’s rambling on about the theme park and the rollercoaster and he’s obviously forgotten about our little dance. And I’m not one to pass up on an opportunity. I continue to ask questions about the attractions he wants to see, although I still can’t believe there’s anything more attractive than yours truly. I start to ease forward and he’s not paying attention to me. I know I could give him a better ride than any bloody rollercoaster. Got the moves, and the curves and the angles and I can take him so damn high, he feels like flying when he gets to the top of the climb. Hmm, sex on a rollercoaster, that might just be worth trying. It might even double the G-force.

He’s still prattling on and I’m almost there. Just one more move and I’ll have him. One little step and I’m so close, when he comes back to himself and startles, as I move to grab his arm. There’s a quick yelp and before I get a good hold, he twists out of my grip and he’s off and circling the car again. But this time I’m right behind him. He makes it to the front before I grab hold of his belt and haul him round ‘til he’s face down on the bonnet, half hanging off the edge. He’s got one hand braced on the warm metal and the other hanging down the side of the tyre, his hand just hovering over the dirt. I start to dig my fingers behind his belt and down under the top of his jeans. Cold flesh meets warm and it’s a sensation that will never get old.

He’s breathing hard and I bend over and start to whisper, so close to his ear that he can probably feel every breath of air. “Come on, pet. We got a long way to go together. Don’t want to start on the wrong foot, do we? Things could get a little difficult, what with you being here all alone and unprotected, like. Who knows what could happen to a sweet little boy like you?”

“Are you threatening me, Spike?” His words are muffled, with his face being flat against the bonnet of the car, but I can hear the incredulity in his tone and I can just picture the look on his face.”

“See, there you go again, using these inflammatory words, pet. First ‘sabotage’, now ‘threatening’. Reckon you do need to spend some time with that thesaurus of yours. Need to learn a few new words every day, to make your vocabulary a little more respectful.

“So, what do you say, pet? Are you going to play nice, or am I going to have to get a bit more physical.” I dig my nails into the soft, sweet flesh at the top of his crease and he squeaks and shudders and goes limp.

“Okay, okay. You win. Big vamp-bully. You’re going to have to let me up, though. Things are getting a little squashed down here, if you know what I mean.”

That’s better. Nice to know he’s gets who’s in charge. He just needs a little bit of a reminder now and then. I give that pretty little arse one last pinch and then I back away, giving him the space to get up.

He lies there for a second, catching his breath and then rolls towards the edge of the car, bringing his outstretched arm up and under him and pushes himself up with the other arm. He pauses, just for a moment, and as he turns round I can hardly believe what I’m seeing. It’s like watching in slow motion and all the vamp reflexes in the world aren’t enough, as he brings his hand upwards and stuffs the last remaining Brownie into his mouth in one enormous bite. And he’s chewing and swallowing and watching me warily and trying not to giggle, all at the same time. He’s got bits of chocolate crumb lingering at the corners of his mouth and down his chin and I don’t know whether to clip him round the ear or lick him clean.

He’s watching me closely, still giggling madly, but waiting for my reaction and I decide to satisfy both urges in a fast one, two. I grab hold of his shirt and pull him towards me, giving him a quick skelp across the arse as he moves. “Naughty, pet. Very, very naughty.” I start to lick slowly up his chin and round his mouth, chasing every scrap of Brownie. He tastes of heat and sweat and chocolate and as my tongue pushes into his mouth, there’s an unmistakable flavour of want and lust and youth, and the giggles have morphed to something much more primitive. One hand moves from the front of his shirt and tangles in his hair, holding him in place as the kiss goes on, and the other snakes down and pulls at his belt and the fastenings on his jeans, and I can feel him mirroring the action on my own. There’s no finesse here. No tentative touches and whispers. Only heat and lust and so much want, and I suspect he’s forgotten he’s out in the open, in a rest stop in the middle of the night. I scrape my nails up the length of his cock and he’s whimpering as sweet as the chocolate still hiding in the corners of his mouth. I’m still chasing at crumbs when he tries to match my moves, scraping his thumb nail over the head of my dick. He’s still so inexperienced, but it feels so damn good. I groan into his mouth and it’s all the encouragement he needs. His hand speeds up and my own moves in counter measure. This can’t last much longer and all at once I can feel him stiffen and I strip down hard and his hips buck sharply. He whines, high and sharp and it’s enough to make me follow him into oblivion.

It feels like hours have passed, and I can feel his heart thudding against my chest and it’s such sweet percussion in the quiet night. He raises his head and blinks at me slowly. “So I guess you caught me, then?”

I rub myself up against him and he groans and lets his head fall back. “Suppose I did, love. Led me a right dance, you did. Haven’t seen you move so fast since that bird Anya wanted to go out with you. Not that I blame you for scarpering. Scary girl, that one. Cute, but very scary. But this isn’t quite the same. Reckon I gave you those Brownies, so it’s my right to take them back. Didn’t even leave me one, pet. That’s not very polite now, is it?” He’s chewing on his bottom lip and it’s almost a pout, but he’s obviously decided it’s not worth arguing the point. “So I reckon we’d better be getting back on the road. Like you say, we’ve got to get to LA before sun up. Can’t have you missing your little bit of excitement, now can we? We’ll find a motel or something and then you can spend the day seeing the sights, while I rest up a bit”

I smile at him and his eyes go huge. He’s not stupid. He can read between the lines. He’ll have a day in the theme park and I’ll have a whole day to myself. Plenty of time to think up a nice bit of payback for tonight’s little prank. “Come on, pet. Let’s get going.”

He eases himself into the car, glancing sideways at me when he thinks I’m not looking, but I look straight ahead and the DeSoto starts to purr as I pull back onto the road. Oh yes, a whole day of contemplation. I think it might be about time for another round of forfeits.


	2. Diversions 1: Catch Me If You Can

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander’s been out on his own and Spike’s not worried…

_  
**Diversions 2: The Star Trek Guide to Intergalactic Sightseeing  
Beta extraordinaire: [](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/profile)[**thismaz**](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/)  
**   
_

The boy’s running late. I’ve been expecting to see him for a while now. Not that I’m watching the clock or nothing, but he should be back by now. He’s been gone all day, riding his bloody rollercoasters and god knows what other nonsense, and good on him. You’re only young once, and all that crap. Unless you’re a vamp of course. Even so, it’s been dark for the last 15 minutes and he’s still not back. But I’m not worried. Definitely not worried. Concerned maybe? Lots of uglies out there in the dark, waiting to gobble up a tasty little morsel. So, concerned is natural. Concerned is healthy

I thought about going out myself, just for a nosy; stretch the legs a bit after the day’s sleep, as it were. And if he was getting into any trouble, then I could just happen to run across him. But I didn’t. Not going to start down that road. I’m not a bloody nanny. Not going to wipe his nose for him. He’s a big lad. Can take care of himself. I’m not going to hover. That’s not what this is all about. I’m just having a bit of fun and enjoying a bit of company for a while. Filling in some time and doing a little bit of corruption on the side. Yep, I’m evil. And if I can show him the sights while I’m at it; make sure he’s not a complete loser when he goes back to the Hellmouth, then that’s my good deed for the millennium. That’s all it is. So…..sorted!

Oh Christ, I’m turning into the bloody poof. Need to stop this. Need to get some perspective. And halle-bloody-luiah, he’s back. Finally. I can hear him coming through the parking lot, and he’s bouncing and whistling out of tune. Not a nervous bone in his body. That’s good. That’s right. Don’t want him to be scared. But a little respect would be nice. Master fucking vampire here. Not every day a human gets to come home to me and be something more than food, and oh bollocks there’s that smell.

He’s glowing. Sunshine and light and warmth and it’s just leeching out of him, and the scent and the sensation surround me. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that. I can almost feel the sun oozing out of his skin and I want to crawl inside him, immerse myself in that heat. I stand for a moment, wallowing, but then he’s shuffling at the door and I make myself focus and all the pent up frustration just boils to the surface. “So what the hell time do you call this then, eh? Just about to send out a blood search party. Big city, little boy, Christ knows what might have happened?”

He just sighs and looks at me, one eyebrow raised, and I swear he’s been practising, little bastard. “Spike, you’re not my keeper. You knew where I was. I was on the rides, remember? The rides I’ve been boring you stupid about since we left Sunnydale. The ones you said you weren’t interested in. And just before they closed, I had the chance to have another go on the new rollercoaster and I couldn’t pass it up. You should see it. It’s amazing, like a work of art or something. And it’s the biggest one in California.”

I know my feelings are getting the better of me because he pauses for a moment and just stares, before pulling himself together and walking towards me. Then he’s right in my face and I don’t know whether to be chuffed with him or furious.

“What? What have I said now? You’re obviously pissed off at something, and I can’t believe I actually said ‘pissed off’. God, you really are rubbing off on me, and before you say anything, just don’t.” I just raise an eyebrow back at him and wait for him to start again. It’s actually kind of cute, but I’m not going to tell him that. “So, you’re annoyed about something, I can tell just from looking at you. So, what? Aren’t I allowed to have fun?”

Okay, I’m going to be reasonable about this. No point in upsetting him. No point in getting upset. Just need to be rational and calm. I can do that. “Of course you can have fun, pet. I’m glad you had fun. But there’s more to life than bloody theme parks. See, you bloody yanks, it’s all about size and instant gratification, not that there’s anything wrong with that. But where’s the quality? Where’s the history and the experience? You’d go out of our way to see the big ball of twine or a giant statue of bloody Popeye, but it’s not the same, pet. There’s the Mona Lisa or Monet’s Water Lilies, or if you want something big and impressive, go see the Pyramids or the Coliseum or Ayres Rock. You need to make some proper memories, love.”

I know he probably thinks I’m ranting, but it makes me crazy that he just can’t imagine himself going anywhere. It’s not his fault, it’s just the way he’s been dragged up and it makes my teeth itch. I’m just about to start again when he interrupts.

”Uluru”

“What?” Sometimes I have no idea where his mind goes to.

“Ayres Rock – that’s its aboriginal name.”

“And you know this, how?” Christ, I’m even beginning to sound like the boy.

“It just stuck in my head. From school, I mean. Sounded a bit like Uhura, so I remembered.” He’s blushing, looking embarrassed at the admission. “And I saw that movie, Picnic at Hanging Rock. It wasn’t about Ayres Rock. But it was still good for all that. I sat through it twice.”

Okay, we obviously turned left somewhere when I wasn't looking, but I'll play along for now. “Australia’s a big place, pet. Lots of rocks, there. Good flick, though. Could have done with a bit more violence and gore, and the odd sacrificial virgin, but hey, maybe they’ll save that for the sequel” I pause for a moment to light a fag and watch the boy as he grimaces at the smoke. But I just take a long drag and stare at him until he flushes and all that lovely blood rushes to the surface. “And talking of sacrificial virgins, I believe you and I need to have a little chat about the stunt with the brownies, pet. Not very nice to taunt the big, bad vamp. Playing with fire, that is. Little boys could get their fingers burnt. And then you were late back tonight. Got me wondering what kind of trouble you’d run into. I don’t like being worried. Makes me cranky.”

“Umm, sorry.”

“Sorry, isn’t going to cut it, pet. You know the rules. It’s all adding up.”

“Jeez, Spike, will you stop with the threats, already. Although that’s probably your idea of flirting. You know, I’m not sure this is going to work. I never know how you’re going to react and it's getting to me. I’ve been out one day and you’re worse than Willow when I’ve not turned in an assignment. I can still get a bus home you know.”

Whoa, where the hell did that come from? Talk about over reacting. So, play it cool. Don’t wind things up. That’s the ticket. I can do that. “Is that what you want, Xander?”

He’s so close, and the heat and the confusion are just pouring off of him. Just need to get rid of the confusion and we’ll be fine. Normally I’d just grab him and tease him ‘til he couldn’t think straight, but I’m not stupid; impulsive maybe, but this time I know he’s got to make the next move. So I wait. Got to give him control of the game for a while. Easy, I can do that.

“You call me pet, and love and other stuff. Then you get all serious and call me by my name and all of sudden it’s like you’re really listening and I can’t think straight. No, I don’t want to go, and you know it. This is my chance to see stuff, before I have to do the growing up thing. But I’m never going to see the things you’re talking about. But I can see other stuff.” He’s pacing now, running his fingers absently through his hair as he passes and I resist the urge to pull him towards me. He stops for a moment, eyes fixed on his bag by the end of the bed and I feel something like fear twist in the bottom of my gut. He turns back towards me and I can see that he’s come to some kind of decision and I force myself to keep still. “You need to give me some space, Spike. You’re not my mother, and that was a scary image that I never want to have again. You promised me I wasn’t just furniture. That I wasn’t a thing. Now you need to prove it.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and move towards him slowly.

“Sorry, pet. We’re just in different time zones and it makes me a bit crazy sometimes. Just because it’s daylight doesn’t mean it’s safe. Not all the nasties in the world are demons, pet, and before you say anything, I know you can take care of yourself. Doesn’t mean you should have to.” Oh bloody hell, ‘Poofdom ‘R Us’ here I come. “What if we do a deal? I’ll stop being so pushy and you tell me where you’re going, and when you’ll be back, yeah? “

He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and I can’t read the expression on his face as he watches me. “Thank you for worrying. It’s just kind of a novel experience, you know?” He smiles briefly and looks determined again. “But we’ve got to settle this before we go any further. So we make a deal and you won’t push me? You won’t get cranky? And you’ll accept that I have a life, and opinions and interests that aren’t the same as yours? Come on Spike, we’ve had this conversation before. You know that the next time it happens, you’ll be just the same as you are now."

“Caught me, pet. Getting to know me a bit too well. But then you know that I will try. You know what I’m like. You can’t change the fundamentals, but I won’t ever take you for granted and you won’t ever be furniture – promised you that, and I meant it. Believe me?"

His eyes suddenly soften and I can almost see the tension leaving his shoulders as he nods. “Yeah. No one ever accused me of being sensible, so why start now. I believe you. Just try.”

“It’s a deal, love. I'll try. And don’t sell yourself short – sensible is over-rated." I move closer ‘til we’re almost chest to chest and run one finger slowly down the front of his T-shirt ‘til it comes to rest at the top of his jeans. "But don’t forget, clock’s still ticking.”

He looks at me quizzically. “Uh, huh….. Just give me warning when I’m in trouble, okay?”

Warning? But that’s half the fun - the element of surprise, that’s what it’s all about. Seems we’ve got a bit of education to go yet, and maybe this is something that not even Star Trek can teach him. Oh yeah, surprise, I think we can definitely ‘make it so’...


	3. Diversions 3: Knowing Me, Knowing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander broods and Spike worries… (are we detecting a theme yet?)

_**Diversions 3: Knowing Me, Knowing You**_  
Beta extraordinaire: [](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/profile)[**thismaz**](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/)  


Boy’s been quiet for a while now. Even when we set off tonight he hardly said a thing. Just got in the car and hunkered down. He’s not being awkward or sulky or anything. He’s just quiet, looking out of the window even though there’s nothing to see, and it’s making me twitchy. He’s obviously got something on his mind and, if I’m being honest, I’m worried that he’s still wondering if he made one big, bloody mistake hooking up with me. Wish I could reassure him, but I’m not sure I disagree.

Anyway, no point in brooding. Time for a bit of action. Got a rest stop coming up, so I’m just going to pull in here and see what’s going on in that head of his.

“Xander?” He’s still just staring out the window, so I turn the music down and try again. “Xan? You in there?”

His head comes round slowly and for a moment I wonder if he really sees me at all. His eyes are glazed and I don’t think he’s even registered that we’ve stopped. “Huh?”

“Just wondered where you’d gone to, love. Been miles away for the last couple of hours. Was beginning to get a complex that you weren’t talking to me or something?”

“What? Oh, sorry. I was just day dreaming, I guess. I didn’t mean to ignore you. Honest.” His eyes are still distant and as they flick towards me and then away, I get the feeling that I’m not getting the whole deal here.

I pull out a cigarette and take my time lighting it and enjoying the first few draws while I give him a moment to come back to me. “So, must have been some day dream? What were you thinking about, pet? Anything I should be worried about?”

I aim for my most casual voice, but it obviously isn’t enough because he looks startled and starts to shake his head vigorously. Christ, he really does know me too well. “No. No worrying here. Nothing at all to worry about. Everything’s fine. Honest.”

There’s that word again, and he’s chewing his lip as he stumbles to reassure me and I press the advantage. “So, going to tell me about them? These day dreams that are nothing to worry about. “ He looks down at his lap for a moment, playing with a loose thread on his shirt. “Promised I’d give you space, love. And I will. But if there’s something bothering you, then I need to know. You really do have to be honest with me. I know I’m talented, but I’m no mind reader. That was Dru’s bag. I can’t look at the stars and find out what you’re thinking. If it’s easier, you could always send me a postcard or something. Seemed to work okay last time, yeah?” He looks up quickly and gives me a shy smile and I lean forward and push the tangle of hair out of his eyes. I leave my hand resting for a moment on the edge of his jaw and then give him his space and sit back, taking another long puff as I watch him struggle with his thoughts.

“It’s just….” He pauses, obviously trying to work out how to get the words out. “I suppose it’s just really hit me: I can’t go back home.” He looks out into the darkness for a moment and then back towards me. “I mean, I know I can go back whenever I want. I believed you when you said you wouldn’t stop me. Then I made that threat about still being able to get the bus. But I’ve realised I can’t. That even when I go back. If I go back. I can’t really ever go back. Not to before.” He looks at me and there’s a small frown line between his eyes and I just want to smooth it away. “Does that make any sense at all?”

“Think I’m beginning to get your drift, pet, but I think you need to get it out - work it through in your own mind.”

“I’ve done nothing but work it through for the last two hours, but I keep coming back to the same thing. That I can’t go back. Not long term. We’re only on day 3 of the trip and I’ve already realised that. When we were in Sunnydale, it was exciting and exhilarating and thrilling and hell of a scary, but it was normal, you know? Well, as normal as things get on the Hellmouth. Even when I was creeping about and coming to you for lessons, and planning how to take down the Mayor, there was still all this normal. I still had movie nights with the gang, and research sessions in the library and Giles, and tea and ‘Oh Dear Lords’. But there’s no library now, and the girls will be going to college, so there probably won’t be movie nights. And Giles isn’t Watcher man anymore." His voice is wavering and he's fighting for control, trying desperately not to break down. He rummages in a bag at his feet and pulls out a battered photo album and starts to turn the pages. There are pictures of the Slayer and the Witch and the Watcher. Of the boy and the cheerleader and group photos on the beach. And there's a picture of a boy I don't recognise and it's creased and worn with too much handling. And I realise I don't want to ask. His hand skims over the picture and he looks up at me, tears bright in his eyes. "All the normal's gone. So when I do go back, what’s going to be left?”

So that’s what we’ve come to. My boy is growing up and he’s scared shitless. “There’s no road map, pet. We all come to this moment at some time in our life. You realise that things are changing and it’s scary as hell. But it doesn’t have to be. You can still have the excitement and the exhilaration and the thrill, but they’ll just be different.”

“So did you feel like this? When you were my age, I mean?”

“Not so much at your age. I had my life all laid out for me. Had to do what was expected. Keep up the family name and all that shite. Never occurred to me to think differently, back then. Then I met Dru and my life changed, forever. There was no more stuffiness and obligation. No more moral values. More like cry havoc and let loose the bloody hellhounds of war, and Christ, we caused some bloody havoc. Fought and fucked our way across three continents and relished every damn moment.”

I stop for a moment, picturing the scenes in my head and then I hear him whisper, “And then?”

“Then bloody Angelus got his soul and things fell apart.”

The silence hangs, heavy, in the air between us and I don’t realise how long I’ve been sitting lost in memories ‘til I feel a warm hand stroking across the inside of my wrist. I look up and he’s watching me, eyes dark and fathomless and I can’t help thinking of other brown eyes.

“So what did you do?”

“Got on with it, pet. Nothing else for it. No point in dwelling on things. Look at Peaches – that’s where brooding will take you. Maybe did a bit more fighting and fucking for a while – just to blow off some steam. Then me and Dru danced our way through Europe and Asia, and finally through America. See, that’s what you have to do, love. Leave the past behind. Learn from it and remember it. Then you create a new normal.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Nothing’s ever simple, pet. Doesn’t mean it’s not doable. Meant it when I said you need to create some memories. Means you’ve got to have the experiences first. Sometimes it’s a long way down. But then, sometimes, you just have to say fuck it and take the risk.”

“So, you gonna hold my hand while I jump then, blondie?”

“I’ll hold anything you like. If you’ll let me?” I start to grin lasciviously, but he’s looking so damn serious and I take a last drag of my cigarette and throw the butt out into the darkness and watch him as he watches me.

He moves towards me slowly and runs one finger down my jaw, mirroring my earlier movement and then kisses me gently. His lips are so soft and I can feel his breath fluttering over my skin as he ghosts over my mouth. “Thank you.” It’s just a whisper, but there’s such emotion in the words and for a moment I’m at a loss what to say.

But then I think back on all our time together and I smile back at him. “Got a lot of postcards to write, pet. Need to go see the sights so your girls can tick their boxes.” He’s nodding now, and the tension has gone from his shoulders and his face. “Besides, we’ve still got some lessons to catch up on. Still want to teach you to Tango, love. If you want to?”

He’s grinning now and I can smell the blood rushing as he blushes in the dark. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Right then, lets get back on the road. Still got some miles to put in before daylight. Next stop, San Francisco. I’m sure we can find a few fun things to do down there, for a couple of days.”

He’s laughing and it’s such a lovely sound in the dark. “Yeah, and we probably won’t put them all in the postcard, huh?”

“Perhaps not, pet. Perhaps not. Can only get so much on a scrap of 6 by 4. Can’t include everything that happens. That’s not lying. That’s just saving paper.”

“Never took you for an environmentalist type, Spike. But then again, I suppose that’s what vamps are all about – recycling.” He grins at me and I grin right back. “Okay then, the Golden Gate Bridge is next on my list. Maybe you can help me find a great place to make that jump.”


	4. Diversions 4:  The Sound of Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scenes from San Francisco

_**Diversions 4: The Sound of Silence**_  
Beta extraordinaire: [](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/profile)[**thismaz**](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/)

“Spike, will you stop with the fussing, already. I’ll be fine. And don’t look at me like that. We’re in San Francisco. You can’t expect me to be here and not see the damn Bridge. That’d be like against the law, or something. I’d probably get arrested for crimes against tourism.”

Boy’s pacing up and down, making me dizzy. But I’m being understanding, I’m being patient – see I’m sitting here listening to him talk about a bloody bridge, I call that damn patient. He’s driving me mad with his smell and his voice and his rationalisations. I just want to shove him up against the nearest wall and fuck him stupid. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t object, but I said I’d give him space and that’s what I’m doing. For now. Finally he stops to take a breath and I take my opportunity before he starts again. “Not saying you can’t go, pet. Just pointing out the dangers, is all. You’ve been feeling a bit down recently. This whole growing up lark is getting to you and now you want to go swanning off, walking about on tall structures. I’m just saying, it’s not safe.” See, caring and logical and patient – I ought to get a bloody medal.

“What exactly are you saying, Spike? You think I’m going to launch myself over the edge of the Bridge. I know we were talking about saying ‘fuck it’ and jumping, but we were talking metaphorically. And hey, I didn’t even need my thesaurus for that one. Do you think I’ve got a death wish or something? Actually, don’t answer that. I’m road tripping with a vamp with over a century of mayhem under his belt – of course I’ve got a death wish. Look, how about I promise that I won’t do anything stupid. Not that I was going to, anyway. I just want to see the view, that’s all. No death leaps, no illegal bungee jumping, okay? And don’t look at me like that.” Like what? Boy’s spent too long on the Hellmouth - always automatically thinking the worst of people!

“Never understood the whole bungee jumping thing, anyhow. Bloody humans, dangling from giant elastic bands, what’s that about? It ain’t natural. If they’ve got that much of a death wish, I could just set up a stall and do them a favour.” What? What have I said now – he’s just standing staring at me like I’ve got two heads, or something.

“Spike, have you finished ranting? Thank you. And before you say anything, maybe ‘ranting’ was the wrong word, but it’ll do for now. This is no big deal. This is me, having an experience; creating the memories as per instructions. I’ll be gone for a couple of hours, okay? Okay?”

“You know they call it the suicide bridge?”

“Right, now you’re officially freaking me out. I’m not going to jump, although if you go on much more, I might just be tempted. I knew taking you to an internet café was a bad idea. It gives you access to far too much useless information. So I’m going to say this just once more. I’m going on a tour of one of the world’s great landmarks. I want to see the view, ‘cause that’s kind of the point. So I have to do it in daylight. So there’s no plot. No conspiracy. No great suicide agenda. Me Tourist, it Bridge. Simple, okay?” He’s getting all riled up now and he smells delicious, so I slink towards him and he eyes me suspiciously, but I notice that he doesn’t actually move away.

“Right, love. I get it. No need to get your knickers in the proverbial. Which reminds me, we need to have a chat about going commando, pet. Don’t like having to thrash through all those layers to get to you and it does nothing for the line of your jeans.” I gesture towards his crotch and give a quick leer, but he just shakes his head and starts pacing again. Bugger, maybe I’m losing my touch.

“Right, we’ve now officially entered bizarro land. Maybe I should jump off the damn bridge.”

“No need to be like that, pet. Just saying. Anyhow, I get the tourism bit, really I do. So I’ll do you a deal. You go see your bridge and tonight we’ll do something I want, yeah?” He stops in front of me and studies me for a moment and then shakes his head again, but I can recognise surrender when I see it and I have to stop myself punching the air.

“Why do I think this is a really bad idea, and why do I know I’m going to agree anyway?”

“’Cause you’re learning, pet. ‘Quid pro quo’, that’s the game.” He’s rolling his eyes at me, but he doesn’t move away when I start to trail my fingers up his arm.

“Yeah, and do you have a pithy Latin tag for ‘I’m a gullible moron’.”

“Not right now, love, but give me a moment and I’m sure I can think of something.”

We seal the deal with a short, sweet kiss and then he’s gone and I’ve got plenty of time to plan the night’s excursion. Going to give him some experiences he’ll never find in any damn guidebook……

  
*********************************************

“So this is your idea of a good time? A Demon Night Club?” He’s looking around slowly and I grin at the sheer incredulity in his voice.

“Well, yeah. What did you expect, the WI? And before you even ask, forget it. I’m not going to explain. I just need to let go a bit, now and then. Thought this might broaden your horizons as well.”

“Okay, I’m all for that. So this is basically a demon version of the Bronze – lots of awkward dancing, a bit of groping in corners and some action out the back. On second thoughts, I take it back, some action happening in public. There’s just more horns and tentacles.”

“Don’t worry love, I won’t let anyone bite you. Apart from me. We can just sit for a bit, maybe have a dance and watch a bit of the action, yeah?” He nods quickly, but I can hear his heart racing and I think we might have to work up to the night’s main attractions.

“Okay, fine. We can do that. I can do that.”

We wander over to the bar and I get him settled and order two beers and a Jack. Not like anyone’s going to get carded in here. He’s trying not to stare at the bartender – bet four arms comes in right handy when you’re mixing cocktails. I watch him as he sips his beer, tentatively at first, and I can tell from his breathing and his heart rate the minute the booze starts to work its magic and he starts to relax. I have a quick look round the club, checking the exits and the clientele and there’s a couple of doors tucked away in the far corner – interesting. Maybe have a little shufti later. But for now I turn my focus back to my boy. He’s got his attention on the dance floor, watching the action and when another beer appears at his elbow, he just grins and salutes me with his glass and starts to drink. Don’t want him drunk, just a little mellow and by the looks of it we’re well on the way. He’s watching two Nasalos demons smooching to Prince, and the things they’re doing with their tails would make anyone’s eyes cross. Oh yeah, I think it’s definitely time to make the next move. “So pet, you going to give me a dance? Show me if you’ve remembered all your lessons?”

He’s looking at me, head tilted to the side, considering, and for a moment I think the little bugger’s going to turn me down. Then he looks me up and down slowly and licks his lips like he’s looking at the world’s biggest Twinkie. Hmm, I bet I could give him cream filling he’d never forget.

“Okay blondie, let’s go see what you’ve got.” He slides off the bar stool with a grace that would shock his little friends and slinks – yep, definitely slinks onto the dance floor, and bugger me if I don’t have to chase him to catch up. As I reach him the beat changes and the Nameless One gives way to the growling tones of Tom Waits and the hypnotic sound of Romeo is Bleeding. Perfect, just bloody perfect. I’ve got music to fuck to and a pretty boy looking at me with so much heat. I pull him towards me and plaster myself against his front and plant my hands right on that sweet, sweet arse. He stiffens for a moment, but I keep my hands still for now and whisper reassurances in his ear and he’s fine. So fine. And then the beat takes over.

God, I love it when he’s like this – all warm and enticing and relaxed. Doesn’t take much, just a couple of beers and a few soft words and he just melts. So fucking beautiful. He’s swaying against me, just moving his hips to the beat. Cock rubbing against cock through soft, worn denim and cold hard metal and I’m caught somewhere between heaven and hell. I slide my hands slowly up his back and he mirrors the move, just barely touching with his fingertips, but every movement feels like fire under my skin.

I shiver as his hands ghost back down and round and come to rest against the top of my fly. Seems like my boy’s getting brave. “Xander?”

“Hmm?” His eyes are focused on his fingers as they draw patterns across the top of my zip and I hate to disturb him, but I need to be sure he knows what he’s doing.

“Xander?” He lifts his head slowly and looks at me and his eyes are almost black and I really want to fuck him on the spot. But he’s not ready for that. Not yet. “Think we should take this somewhere more private, pet.” He looks confused for a moment, then as the words sink in, he glances round the dance floor and flushes when he sees the avid stares from around the room.

“Okay, can the floor just swallow me now?” His head falls forward onto my shoulder and all I can hear is some muffled cursing before he raises it again. “Sorry. I got a bit carried away there.”

He starts to back away, but I’m not having that – not when he’s come so far, and I grab hold of his belt and halt the movement. “Not so fast, love. It’s okay. Nobody’s judging, they were just enjoying the show – thinking what a lucky bastard I am. And they’re right. Talking of swallowing…… why don’t we take this somewhere a little more private. Place like this always has a cubby hole or two tucked away.”

“But, but we can’t. I mean, not here!” I just look at him, waiting for him to calm down and after a moment he just blushes and looks at floor. “Everyone will know.”

“Everyone will be envious, pet. They’re all too busy doing their own thing, yeah? That’s the joy of somewhere like this, no one gives a toss who’s tossing who.” I start to back away from him, keeping my eyes fixed firmly on his face, and he stands for a moment, biting his lip. I hold out my hand, willing him to come to me and my reward is a mischievous smile as he starts to move. He takes my hand and I scratch my nails gently in the palm of his hand in reassurance, and ease him through the crowds and down to one of the discreet doors in the corner that I noticed earlier.

He’s muttering to himself as I talk briefly to the small, blue skinned demon standing by the door, and as cash and keys are traded I tune into his voice. “I’m not putting this one in the postcard. Scenes from the great American Road Trip Number 357 – How I was fucked in the back room of a demon club by my undead tour guide – oh yeah, that’s a real winner.”

While he’s chuntering I push him through the half open door and pull him back towards me by his belt as I shut the door and turn the key in the lock. “Don’t know, pet. That sounds kind of catchy to me.”

He goes to answer back, but I stop the comment with a kiss and it seems like we stand there for hours, tasting and testing, licking and gnawing ‘til he’s breathless and dizzy with want. Which is just the way I like him. He starts to whimper, low in his throat as I work at the button at the top of his fly, while I trace up the length of his jaw with my tongue. He’s so fucking hard as he rubs up against me and my tongue continues its path right round the shell of his ear. “Gorgeous, pet. So bloody gorgeous. Never letting you go, you know that? Want you like this – hot for me, squirming under my hand, begging for my cock and my tongue and my touch. You want that, pet? Tell me you want that?” He’s making little incoherent noises, but they say so damn much and I clamp down hard on the base of his prick. “Tell me, pet. Tell me what you want?”

“Please Spike…I need…please.” He can hardly get the words out, but it’s enough.

“I know what you need, love. Trust Spike to always know what you need.”

I push him round, ‘til he’s up against a small leather sofa in the centre of the floor and push his jeans roughly down his thighs. His cock’s rubbing against the cool leather and I think I could come just from the noises he’s making. I work a half used tube of lube out of my duster and start to haul down my zip with the other hand. There’s no finesse here, no soft touches, no words of love and sweetness. That’s for another time. This is sheer need and want and everything stripped bare between us. I prepare him as quick as I can – one finger, then two, before slicking myself up and starting to push in. He’s come such a long way in the few short weeks since we first did this. Don’t need the opium, not now. This is as natural a high as it gets, and as he starts to push back I start to believe that there really could be a God.

Hot and tight and so damn gorgeous, he’s rubbing his cock against black leather as I drive forward and then he pushes back as my duster kisses down his thighs. Heat and sweat and leather and bare, bare flesh and the sensations spiral and I’m over the edge, falling into him as he cries his own release and collapses, panting, over the back of the sofa.

I’m folded over his back, licking at the sweat on the back of his neck as he tries to regain his breath. “Well, pet, think that might be one for your diary.”

“Oh yeah. Shit. I think you’re turning me into a slut.”

“You’ll never be that, love. Just pointing out the possibilities, expanding your horizons, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well that was definitely an experience I’ll remember.”

“So what do you say? We get cleaned up a bit, go have another drink and see what’s happening out on the floor?”

“A drink would be good. I could do with replacing some fluids, and please tell me, I didn’t really say that.”

“Okay, pet, you didn’t say that. So, Bar it is. Then we’ll get you tucked up for the night. Growing boy needs his rest.”

“Uh huh, and if you keep wearing me out like this, I’m not going to be able to get out of bed for a week!”

“Wouldn’t hear me complaining, love. I’m sure we could find something to do to pass the time…..”

**********************************************

So, got the boy all settled. Knew that peach schnapps was a bad idea, but he’s a big lad and he wasn’t going to be talked down. Not that I tried that hard. He needed to yank at the reins a bit – reassure himself that he was still in control. That’s fine, it’s not like I don’t recognise the symptoms. So I sat back and let him have his head. And he got to prove he’s a big boy and not on a leash anymore. Mind you, bet he’d look pretty on a leash. Might take a bit of persuasion, but I’m just the vamp to do it. But that’s for another time. Now he’s all tucked up and I’ve got a little down time and the chance to take a stroll. Catch the air and anything else that might be around. I ease out of the room, taking care not to wake him, and close the door softly as I slide out into the dark.

God, I love the smell of a city. Heat and sweat and blood and sex and so much fear and hate. Never understood why the hell any demon would want an apocalypse. Why they’d want to lose this little taste of ambrosia. And hello heaven, there’s a click of heels and the patter of a too fast heartbeat and it’s coming this way. That’s it, come to Spike. Just a little closer now. Aren’t you the pretty one? All big eyes and lush, pale skin and, trembling like a rabbit in front of the fox. Just a little closer now and that’s it. There’s nothing to worry about, nothing to fear. Just relax. No need to fret. I’m just a good Samaritan helping a lady find her way home. Just need one little coin for the ferryman. One little sip and it’s oh so sweet, and I just stand there savouring the taste and the smell of her fear as she stands frozen under my hands.

I’m lost in the sensation, taking my fill when the sound of footsteps start to bleed into my mind. Some nosy bastard. Always someone sticking their nose in where it doesn’t belong. This could just be the perfect night – a fuck, then a feed and now a fight. Oh yes, bring it on.

The footsteps are getting closer and there’s a heartbeat going a mile a minute. Fear and determination wafting through the night air and I wait, my prize still in my arms, caught between terror and ecstasy. A shadow comes closer to the end of the alley and takes form under a streetlight and we both freeze like we’re caught in some mad children’s game.

“Spike?” His voice is low and scared and filled with such shock and I can’t believe the way it curdles in my gut. He stands for a moment staring at me and then darts forward and grabs the girl out of my arms before I can get any words out. He’s shaking her, asking if she’s alright and I’m not sure if I’m more pissed off that I lost dinner, or that he’s paying more attention to her than he is to me.

I stand in the shadows watching as he tries to soothe her. I can feel the demon clawing at the back of my brain, whispering about blood and tattered flesh, but I’m looking at my boy and the rest of me is numb. He’s talking to her and she seems to come to and register what’s happening. She stares at him for a moment and then looks back at me and starts to shake. My boy starts to speak to her again, but she’s not listening, just shaking her head and as he goes to take hold of her, she turns and makes a break for it, heels clattering on the concrete as she runs for home.

He's so still, indecision clear on his face about his next move. And I start to walk towards him, pulling out a fag as I go. Then he just shakes his head and he’s gone – running down the road into the empty dark. I just stand, frozen, ‘til his footfall fades away to nothing. The cigarette dangles unlit from my fingers and I think I just died a little bit more. He’s gone and there’s nothing left here but the dark and the taste of blood and bitterness. And the sound of silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The WI is the Woman’s Institute, an extremely venerable society in the UK dedicated to community good works. It was originally set up in 1915 and was inspired by the Federated Women’s Institutes of Canada. In more recent times, it’s more famous for the charity nude calendar, immortalised in the film Calendar Girls. Here’s the wiki link if you want to know more. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_Women%27s_Institute>
> 
> Romeo is Bleeding comes from my favourite Tom Waits album Blue Valentine. Not one to listen to when you’re depressed!
> 
> Finally, the sex scene was written while I was on a train to London. Picture the scene – husband sitting next to me, studying for an exam and two complete strangers sitting opposite and I’m writing about Spike screwing Xander across the back of a sofa…… Now go back and read the scene again with that image in your head!


	5. Diversions 5:  Should I Stay or Should I Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Morning after the Bite Before…..

_**Diversions 5: Should I Stay or Should I Go**_  
Beta extraordinaire: [](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/profile)[**thismaz**](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/)  


Fuck, what a mess. It was such a good day. Great banter, decent drink, bit of a dance and a bloody marvellous shag. And it’s all gone to rat shit.

I just wanted to take the edge off. Boy’s been walking around smelling so damn delicious. All that lovely fresh blood rushing under smooth tanned skin, but I promised myself I wasn’t going to go there. Not yet. Not ‘til he asked for it. Christ, I’ve got over a century under my belt. I’ve got control. But not enough for some folk.

I thought he was asleep. Just stepped out for a bit, to get some air. I hadn’t really gone looking for anything to eat. But she was there and I was hungry. It wasn’t personal. Could have been anyone. I wasn’t going to kill her. Just wanted a bloody snack, that’s all. Then he appeared, right out of the blue. And it all went to hell.

I’m a bloody old fool. Don’t know why the hell I thought this would work. It was supposed to be fun. Yeah, right. I should know better by now. You can take the boy out of Sunnydale, but you can’t take the white hat off of the boy. Even if it’s a bit dusty round the edges, it’s still all pristine underneath.

It wasn’t meant to be like this. I just wanted to see how far I could push one of the Slayer’s groupies. And he was so fucking ripe for it. Innocent and knowing and sweet and so damn hot. And all of a sudden he was under my skin. Thought I could take him away from his little friends and have some fun. Savour the sweet taste of corruption. But now it’s just ashes on my tongue and I have no idea what’s going to happen next.

Shit! Got to stop this! He’s not going to make me soft. I’m a demon. I don’t do regret. I don’t do apologies. And I sure as hell don’t change to suit a human. Food and fucktoys, that’s what they’re for and he either accepts his place, or starts hitching.

Oh bloody hell, who am I trying to kid? Couldn’t walk away now if someone paid me. This dance we’ve been doing, it’s so damn hypnotic. Every twitch of his hips gets me right in my gut and my head and my balls and I don’t want it to stop. We’ve just lost the rhythm, that’s all. I’m damned if I’m going to change the music because of a few wrong steps. Just got to be calm and wait for him to come to me. Not like I’ve got any choice with the fucking daylight.

I went looking for him last night. Followed his scent right into the city. I think I could probably find him anywhere. But my boy’s no fool. Followed him to a church – clever little bastard, seeking sanctuary from the things that go bump in the night. I waited outside ‘til nearly dawn, but he didn’t come out and the damn church had too many exits to be sure of catching him. But I knew he’d have to come back to the motel, even if he planned to do a runner. I know my boy, he’s not going anywhere without his precious photos of his friends. Now I’m holed up in this shit hole waiting for him. He’s going to come back. If I say it often enough, then it’s bound to be true. And when he does, him and me are going to have a very long chat. Even if I have to tie him to the bloody bed to make him listen.

There’s a shuffling sound outside the door and I slouch in the tatty chair in the opposite corner and stare at the handle as it begins to turn slowly. If this is room service I’m going to kill someone. The door swings open, creaking gothically on its hinges and I wonder if it’s going to set the tone for the conversation ahead.

“Hey.” He pauses at the door, half in and half out of the sunlight, like he’s not sure whether to take the final step or not. I want to grab him by the front of his damn awful shirt and haul him inside. But I don’t. I sit and wait and watch. And he watches back. Patience has lots of rewards and I’m old enough to recognise that this is one time where force isn’t going to help, even if it it’ll make me feel better.

“I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.” He’s one part sheepish and two parts defiant, and I can see his hand clenching spasmodically on the door frame as he studies me.

“Where else would I be, pet. Not like I can go anywhere with the sun up, and all. Vampire – remember!” He flinches just for a second and then I can almost see him gathering his resolve and he looks at me coolly.

“Yeah, I got the memo. What with the fangs and the blood sucking, it’s kind of hard to miss.

“Always knew you were sharp. Never need telling twice. So are you going to come in, or are you going to stand there working on your lopsided tan?” A brief smile flits across his face. It’s gone as quickly as it arrived, but it’s a start. He moves fully into the room, shutting the door behind him and stands with his back against the flimsy wood. And he waits.

“Xan, love, we need to talk.” Christ I sound like a bloody girl. The irony obviously isn’t lost on him because the smile makes another fleeting appearance.

“Yeah, I think we do.” The mask is back and he looks at me for the longest moment and I feel like a bug under a microscope. It’s probably about level with how he sees me, right now.

He sticks his hands deep into his pockets and stares at the floor like he’s ordering his thoughts, before looking back up at me. “I went to Church last night.”

“Yeah, I know. Followed you there, didn’t I.”

“I haven’t been in a church in years. Not voluntarily, I mean. In Sunnydale, it was all funerals.” His eyes flick towards me and my fingers itch for a fag. But this is his time and I need him to know that I’m listening to him, so I just nod. “I remember going when I was little. Back when the only alcohol I saw was the communion wine. I went to Sunday school for a while. I liked the stories. It was a plain church, but I liked it. It was peaceful – a place to think. That’s what I wanted last night – a place to think.” I nod again, wondering where he’s going with this, but not wanting to interrupt as he follows his thought. “Saints Peter and Paul is a bit grander than Saint Anne’s, but I suppose there’s a hierarchy with saints, just like there is with demons?” He tilts his head a little, looking puzzled and I realise that it’s a question.

“Think you’re probably right, pet.”

“It started me thinking about how I’d thought they were all just stories. But then I learned about what’s out there in the dark. And it made me wonder about what’s in the light. And about all the grey in between.”

“And did these deep thoughts go anywhere?”

“Jury’s still out, I think.” He moves away from the door and walks over to the small window, pulling back the dirty curtain to peer out at the watery sunlight. He’s got his back to me and I almost miss the quiet words. “Did you know I tried to rape Buffy?” Of all the things I was expecting, it wasn’t that.

“No, pet. Can’t say that I did.”

“I was possessed at the time. So that’s all right, isn’t it?” His hands are still in his pockets, but I can see them ball into fists inside the worn denim. “Quick spell and all’s forgiven. It’s simple. Only it’s not. I mean, there must have been something there in the first place for it to latch onto. Don’t you think? That’s how it has to work, right?”

Christ, I’m in way over my head here. “Don’t rightly know, pet. Was never one for the mojo. But I don’t think it follows that what you do when you’re possessed has anything to do with who you really are.”

“So you don’t think there was a little bit of Spike in William?”

Seems he remembers his fighting lessons as well as his dancing, ‘cause that left hook came out of nowhere. I pause for a moment, buying some time, lighting a cigarette. There’s only one left in the packet and I curse inwardly when I remember that the rest of the carton is snug in the DeSoto – in the sunlight.

“That’s a hard question. And a loaded one. If I say yes, then you’ll think the darkness was there inside you, waiting to be exploited. If I say no, then you’ll think all the good stuff we’ve had when I was being all ‘human’ can’t be real, because it’s just the demon in charge. I don’t know how to answer without you hating yourself, or hating me. I’m a vampire, love. You know that. You said I was the fox, remember? I hunt to survive. But I don’t hunt for sport. And I don’t kill when I don’t have to. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, pet. Just didn’t see the point in rubbing it in your face.” He’s still staring out the window, shoulders hunched and tight and I get the sinking feeling that I’ve lost.

“I remember the rush of power, with the possession I mean. I’d never felt anything like it. And sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I could feel it again.” He turns and looks at me and there’s so much anguish in his eyes.

I remember the first time I killed after I was turned; the way the power flowed through my veins and I shiver as the memory of that first sensation slides back through my senses. “It’s seductive, isn’t it? It whispers sweet nothings in the corner of your brain and curls round your bones and seeps into every cell, ‘til it’s all you can feel. When you’re young, you just want to wallow in it. Then you learn about control. That’s the difference between a master and a minion – it’s all about control. You know this, Xander. That’s what makes you different. You’re still so young, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a human with more control. You remember the power, but you acknowledge the dangers. And you control it.” He’s studying me and I’ve no idea if anything I’m saying is going in, but I have to try if we're to have any chance at all. “In the end, it doesn’t matter if your possession hooked onto something that was already there. It doesn’t matter if Spike was waiting to be born inside William. We’re not those people now. You have to live for today and tomorrow. Can’t change yesterday.”

“I know.” He moves away from the window and slumps down on the edge of the bed. I notice that he’s still wary enough to choose the side furthest away from my chair, but that’s okay. I can live with that, so long as he’s still here. “I told you that first night in the warehouse that I knew what you were. And in my head, I did. But until last night, seeing you in the alley, I don’t think I really understood. Not in my gut. I saw the blood and your face and her eyes. And she was moaning. And I didn’t know how to feel. So I panicked.” His fingers are pulling restlessly at the edges of the ratty bedcover and the scent of his fear and confusion is heavy in the air. “But then, sitting in the church I was thinking about how you make me feel; about how you listen to me like you really are listening; about how you push me to think. And at the moment I don’t know what to think.” He glances towards me and then back down at the bedcover, and he looks so desperately young – like he’s waiting for an answer he can live with, from a grown up.

“I can’t tell you what to think, Xander. Well, I could, but you know it wouldn’t help. Not in the long run. I can’t help what I am. I can’t change it.”

“I know that too.” He looks up again and this time he holds my gaze and the determined expression is back. “I need to know one thing, Spike. Are you playing me?”

“What?”

“All your talk of making memories and seeing things and having choices. Is it just a game? You get someone to talk to for a while and a warm body to sleep with and fuck when you want. Am I making a fool of myself?”

This just gets more complicated by the minute. “No. I’m not playing you. Been a long time since we were at that stage and I think you know that. Yeah, you’re young and warm and, without wanting to make you big headed, you’re turning into a damn good shag. But I’m not playing you, pet. Don’t know what I can say to convince you, but it’s the truth. But it doesn’t change the fundamentals. I’m a vampire. It’s not going to go away.”

“Okay. So what do we do now?”

Talk about the $64,000 question. “If this was a normal conversation, I’d say you should get some sleep. Sitting on a pew might be good for posture, but I’m damned sure it doesn’t do anything for your relaxation. Then I’d say that when you wake up, we could plan the next leg of the trip. See whether you want to head for Vegas, or carry on and go to Yellowstone, or anywhere else you wanted. That’s the great thing about choices. But this isn’t a normal conversation, so I won’t say any of those things. But I still think the sleep bit is a good idea.” I start to stretch in the chair and I can see him flinch at the movement and it hits me right in the gut. “So, that’s all I’m saying and I’ll stop now."

"I don’t know if this conversation will ever be finished, Spike. I know that’s probably not fair, or maybe it’s self-centred or arrogant or maybe selfish. But I still don’t know what to think. Not really.” His eyes flick towards the door and I pull the last fag out of the packet as I prepare to watch him run. But he just sighs and pushes a stray lock of hair from his face. “I meant it when I said the jury was out.”

“Yeah, pet. I get it. I’m on probation. But you have to make a decision sometime. Can’t always sit on the edge. If you’re going to jump, make it your choice, don’t let the edge crumble away under you.”

“Will you catch me if it does?”

“I think that’s up to you to decide, love. Only you know if you want me to be there.” He stares at me for a moment before nodding. It’s not the answer he wanted, but it’s the only one I can give right now. He sits for a moment longer, like he’s waiting for me to say something else and then settles back on the bed and pulls the ratty cover up to his waist and closes his eyes. And I sit in the chair and light my last cigarette as I watch him slide into a restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who is interested, Sts Peter and Paul Church is a real church in the centre of San Francisco. It looks gorgeous and you can find out about it here. <http://www.stspeterpaul.san-francisco.ca.us/church/church_interior.htm>


	6. Diversions 6: No Man’s Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander sleeps and Spike watches

_**Diversions 6: No Man's Land**_  
Beta extraordinaire: [](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/profile)[**thismaz**](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/)  


Sun’s still up. Feels like it’s been up for days. Been sitting in this sodding chair for hours, watching the boy sleep. I keep going over it in my head. Were we always going to get to this point? Could I have avoided it? I’m not usually all introspection vamp, but there’s sod all else to do when there’s no one to talk to and I’ve run out of smokes. It’s like I told him – I can’t change what I am and he can’t change what he is. So he was always going to react the way he did.

I knew back in Sunnydale that he didn’t really understand, despite what he said. But I wanted to believe him. Just for once, I wanted someone to look at me and just see me. I don’t ever wish I was William again, but just sometimes I wish I wasn’t Spike. I thought we’d found the bit in between and it was so damn comfortable. And I was so fucking focused on trying to make him understand what was out there, waiting for him, in his big, tantalizing human world, that just for a moment we both forgot about the demon.

Fuck, why do I always get myself into this state? I followed Dru around for over 100 years, protecting her and keeping her as safe and as sane as I could. Now I’m trying to work out how to do the same to this child. ‘Course I wouldn’t call him that to his face, but watching him toss and turn in his sleep, he so damn young and I just know that he’s dreaming about monsters. That he’s dreaming about me.

I shift in the chair, trying in vain to get comfy and eye up the space on the bed next to him. He’s turned away from me now, curled up small under the thin covering and I want to curl round him and soak up his heat. But I said I’d give him space, so I’m stuck in this fucking chair.

Another half hour crawls by and it’s still too long ‘til sundown. He’s on his back now and there’s a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead and his jaw is peppered with the hint of stubble. He’s moaning softly; his lips moving, whispering words that even I can’t hear, like he’s pleading or praying to something in his head. I lean forward, trying to catch the sense of the words, but he might as well be talking Sumerian.

Suddenly the sounds get harsher and he starts to thrash and kick the ratty cover down his legs as if it’s burning him like acid. I ease up off the chair and walk quietly over and sit down on the edge of the bed and shake him gently. I don’t want to wake him, I’m just trying to break through his dream, but he just pulls away and curls up again, trembling like he could shatter in his sleep. For a moment I don’t know what to do, but then I think back to Dru and reflexes kick into action. I slip off the duster, throw it over the back of the chair and slide into the bed, easing my way over ‘til I’m on my side, up on one elbow with my other hand hovering over him, wondering what the fuck I’m going to say if he wakes up now. I take an un-needed breath and run my hand tentatively down his arm and wait for a reaction, but he’s too deep in his nightmare to notice. I move closer, ‘til I’m flush against his back and then shift my hand to rest across his stomach, and I rub slow circles against worn cotton until his breathing begins to even out.

I just mean to lie for a moment; to wait until he settled back down, but as he calms he turns towards me ‘til his head is buried against my chest and I lie there and watch him for the longest time before I follow him into sleep.

************************

I slide back to consciousness, still clutching at the tendrils of dreams of warmth and sweetness, when it hits me like a kick in the balls. There’s no warmth. There’s no nothing. There’s just me in the bed and I’m almost afraid to open my eyes and see the empty room. But it’s just for an instant and then I hear his heartbeat. It’s fast, but regular, like he’s been pacing, but not panicking, and I take the plunge and open my eyes.

He’s standing back by the window, watching the bed, but there’s tension in every muscle and he looks like he could bolt any minute. So I lie there and wait for my cue.

“I thought you were going to give me some space? Give me some time? Then I wake up and you’re all wound round me like a damn octopus. Not exactly what I’d call space, Spike.” He moves away from the window and starts pacing restlessly towards the door and back.

“You were dreaming, love. Having a nightmare by the sounds of it. You were tossing and turning and I couldn’t’ bring you out of it. Getting into bed was the only thing that seemed to calm you down.” That stops him. He’s right by the bottom of the bed staring at me and as he opens him mouth I brace myself for another rant. But he just laughs. And it sounds even worse.

“You know, how fucked up is my life when the lamest excuse ever, actually sounds plausible.”

“It’s the truth, pet.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s the bit that freaks me.” He backs away from the bed, keeping his eyes fixed on me as he hits the scrappy plywood of the door, and I’ve got such déjà vu from this morning that I want to heave. I glance quickly at the small window and it’s nearly sunset.

“Right, love. Seems like we’ve been here before. Sleep’s supposed to bring counsel and all that shite. So, did it?”

“Will you be surprised if I say no?” He’s got one arm wrapped round his waist and the other is scratching at the side of his neck, right where I want to bite him. If only he’d ask. “Hell, Spike. I don’t know what to do. I thought when I left Sunnydale that I’d stop being scared.” He’s staring at me, all wide eyed and begging me to understand. And I do. “It’s like my brain is telling me one thing and the rest of me is telling me something different. I’m standing on that edge we keep talking about and I want to fly. Honest, I do. But that’s not what we do. We fall. We always have. I’ll make the wrong decision and I’ll fall. I can’t beat genetics. I can’t beat gravity. I can’t beat history.”

Christ, if I could get a hold that moron he calls a father and all his little friends, I’d skin them for the way they’ve messed with his head. Right, time to cut through this mess.

"It’s all that fucker Newton’s fault. Him and his bloody apple.”

That got him. His eyes have lost their glassy look and now he just looks confused. “Spike, what the hell are you talking about? I’m trying to make decisions on my future and you’re going on about the evils of fresh produce. Sometimes I have to remind myself which one of us is the teenager in this relationship.”

Whoa, now that’s a word and a half. “Relationship? So, are you saying we still have one?” That’s it, I am a bloody girl.

He pushes away from the door and walks towards the bed, stopping just out of reach. “Well we’re talking and we’re both still here, so I’d say that’s a relationship. What kind, is another matter.” He pauses for a moment and it’s like I can see the thoughts buzzing through his brain like a ticker tape and right on schedule, here it comes. “And stop changing the subject. So, oh wise one, dazzle me with your observations about the importance of Red Delicious on world events.”

Little git. Sometimes I just want to put him over my knee, but that’s for another time. “No need to be like that now, is there? I’m talking about Isaac Newton, the scientist – he discovered gravity when an apple fell on his head. And don’t look at me like that, I’m not making this up. Didn’t they teach you anything in that bloody school? Don’t answer that. You were probably too busy learning about George Washington and that damn apple tree.”

“And we’re back to fruit again. Next, I suppose you'll start waxing lyrical about the whole Adam, Eve and the serpent thing."

I just look at him and raise an eyebrow - there's so many places I could go with that one, but perhaps now's not the time. “If you’ll let me finish, then I’d get to the bloody point.” He just rolls his eyes at me, but at least he’s looking more relaxed so I’m not going to get ratty with him. “All I’m saying is, that you’re scared of jumping off that damn ledge because you’re scared you’ll go….” I grope for the right word and he’s standing with his arms folded, waiting for the next pearl of wisdom. “Because you’re scared you’ll go ‘splat’." Christ, I think I need to borrow the boy’s thesaurus.

“Splat? I’m scared that I’ll go splat? Isn’t that the lovely Wile E Coyote image.”

“You know what I mean. I’m just saying – we keep having this conversation Xander. We just keep using different words. It’s your choice – jump, or don’t jump, it’s up to you, I’m not going to push you. Just don’t back away because you’re scared you’ll get dragged down. It might not happen.

  
All the time we’ve been talking, he’s been inching closer to the side of the bed and I’m not even sure he realises he’s doing it. He’s so close that I could touch him and the urge to feel the heat coming off his skin is just too much. I stretch out slowly and curl my fingers round one lax hand. And then I wait. He stands there for a moment, eyes huge as he stares at our hands, as if he’s never seen anything like that before. I start to rub small circles with my thumb against his palm – white against tan and all of a sudden the tension seems to rush out of him and he sinks down on the bed beside me. My other hand starts the same movement on his back and he leans into the touch.

“Can you do the whole rubbing your stomach and patting your head deal as well?” My hands freeze for a moment before continuing their meanderings and then I decide to go with the flow.

“Suppose I probably could, pet. Talented vamp like me. Isn’t much I can’t do. But I’m not much for patting my head. Don’t want to mess of the hair, you know. Spoil the look and all that.”

His shoulders are shaking and I hope that’s laughter that’s coming through. “Spike, it’d take more than head patting to break through that crust. I think you and Deadboy must have shares in hair care products.”

“Cheeky brat.” I shimmy further towards the edge of the bed and pull him round ‘til I can see his face. He’s pale under his tan, but the shocky look from earlier is gone. “So, pet. What’s it to be?”

“It’s like I said. My brain and my gut are telling me different things and at the moment they’re running at the same pace. I want to do what my gut tells me, but I’m scared that I’ll panic again. I know you can’t help what you are. I know you need to feed. And part of me accepts that, because I want to stay with you. And that’s the part of me that’s terrified.”

He’s so close to jumping and I know I said I wasn’t going to push. Never said I wouldn’t pull. “Tell you what, pet. What if I bag it for a while? Won’t do that pig swill that Peaches martyrs himself with, it would be human, but from legit sources” He’s looking at me like he’s just seen the rope down the cliff face and I push it under his nose. “We could continue on your trip for a while and see where we get to. Give you time to work out what you really want, yeah?”

He’s swivelled all the way round now and he’s staring at me, searching for the trick. “You’d do that?”

“Said I would, didn’t I?”

He raises his hand and runs his fingers along the side of my jaw and then leans forward and delivers the sweetest kiss I’ve ever tasted in my life. It’s fleeting and soft and it’s flavoured with a bittersweet edge that I want to savour for years. “Okay.”

I want to follow the kiss, but he’s already drawn away and I know this isn’t the time to ask for more. Not yet. And there’s one final point that has to be made. “Okay, then. It’s a deal. Remember though, love, this is a Band Aid on a cut. Bagged blood, or straight from the tap, it’s all still blood. Sooner or later you’re going to have to make a decision. You’ve found a way down off that ledge of yours. But it’s just the first one. One of these days you’ll have to decide on your own.”

“I know. Fuck it and jump, isn’t that right?”

“That’s right, pet. Fuck it and jump. So where do you want to head to next. You still thinking about Vegas?”

He shakes his head and brushes his unruly hair out of his eyes and it’s the first time I’ve seen him smile since we left the demon nightclub, what seems like months ago. “Nah, not really in the mood for bright lights right now. I thought we’d head for Texas. I always wanted to visit the Alamo.”


	7. Diversions 7: Mannish Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike drives and Xander wheedles.

_**Diversions 7: Mannish Boy**_  
Beta extraordinaire: [](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/profile)[**thismaz**](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/)  


“I’m not going to say it again, pet. Whoever told you that the water on stone act would work, hadn’t met me. You’re not changing the music! My car. My music. My choice.”

“Thought you weren’t going to say it again!” Little bastard, I set myself up for that one. “Oh come on, Spike. We’ve been listening to this for hours. I like punk, I really do. I mean, I didn’t know much about it before I met you, so hey, broadened education – it’s all good. Now I can talk with conviction about the awesomeness of Stiff Little Fingers, The Ramones and Siouxsie and the Banshees, but just for once, could we listen to something different? Please.” He’s pouting like a bloody girl, fluttering those eyelashes and that boy is in so much trouble when we stop. “Pretty please.” I look sideways at him and he bats his eyes again, and he looks just like one of those anime figures from one of his damn comics. Yep, definitely in trouble.

“I’m bored, Spike. There’s only so many musical lectures I can take on the evils of capitalism, and with it being the middle of the night, and all, there’s not exactly anything to look at to distract me.” I’m sure I could find something to distract him, and I’m just settling into a nice little fantasy where that pout is circled round my cock, when I realise he’s still wittering and come reluctantly back to reality and glare at him. And he just grins back like he knows what I was thinking. “I just want a change of mood, you know. Something to chill out to, help me relax and unwind before I spell you at the wheel. Why not go wild. Take one of those risks you’re always talking about. Listen to something different. Who knows you might even enjoy it.”

“You really are a whiny little bugger when you’re after something, aren’t you? Want, want, want…bloody teenagers today, think they just need to snap their fingers and everything they ask for will fall into their laps. Not like in my day. Now when I was a lad….”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. When you were a lad, 150 of you lived in a shoebox in the middle of the road. Give it up, Spike. I know my Monty Python. If you start talking about parrots, I might have to get violent.”

Difficult to take his threat seriously when he’s grinning like he’s found another stash of brownies, and for the first time in days I start to think things could be okay. Christ I’m a soppy old fool. I’m just working on a comeback about Victorian upbringings and disrespectful brats being put up chimneys, when something else starts doing somersaults in my head.

“Hang on. Let’s just rewind this conversation a bit. _You want to change the music so that you can chill and be relaxed, before you spell me at the wheel?”_ He’s looking so damn innocent, but I can practically see the horns poking out of his head. “Just remind me which bar you think I left my brain in. Don’t exactly remember any conversations where I agreed to let you drive. I know I’m getting on, but I’m not exactly senile, pet.”

He has the grace to look a bit guilty, but it’s only a bit. “Well, we didn’t exactly have a conversation, but you’re always telling me I need to assert myself and ask for what I want. And I want to drive.”

Hmm, the words sound convincing enough, but there’s something a bit off with his tone. “And you just thought you’d slip that big bit of assertion in under the wire while you whine about changing the music. You know the whole point about saying what you want, is to come out and actually say it, not dress it up as something else. So there’s got to be more to it than that, love. You were quite happy to let me drive before. What’s changed all of a sudden? He peers at me from under his hair and it’s a trick that usually works just fine, but this time, I’m not going to be suckered. “Xander, talk to me.”

He sighs and rubs his hand restlessly against the leg of his jeans. “Okay, I get it. The innocent look isn’t going to work and the whole wheedling gig isn’t cutting it either. I suppose that means I have to do the honesty thing.”

“It would help, love. It’s a long way to Texas.”

“It wouldn’t have been as long if you hadn’t insisted on that ridiculous detour along a pile of back roads, just to avoid going back through LA. Do you think Angel sits in his cave waiting for the bat signal every time something evil comes through the city? Actually, don’t answer that.”

“Wasn’t going to, pet. And you’re changing the subject. Why do you want to drive? And I don’t want any shite.”

“Okay, I suppose the length of the trip is kind of the point. This is meant to be my road trip. My big adventure before sliding back into the swamp. And I’m having fun and learning stuff and you’re really great company. Well, apart from the whole biting thing, but I know that’s my issue to work out and that I’m being an annoying teenager who can’t make up his mind, and I really do appreciate the time you’re giving me on that.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“This probably sounds stupid, but I feel like I’m a passenger. And before you say anything, I know I am a passenger, what with the whole sitting in the passenger seat, deal. But I want to participate, Spike. We’ve got a long way to go and at the end of this, I don’t want to feel like I might as well have stayed at home and looked at some postcards.”

I can practically feel the tension coming off him and I know it’s hard for him to say what’s really on his mind, so I cut him a little slack for a minute. “Seems like you’ve done a lot of participating since we hooked up, pet. And from the noises you made, I’d say you enjoyed every single minute.”

I run my tongue across my top lip, provocatively, and I can hear his breath hitch, but then he just rolls his eyes and chuckles softly. “Does everything revolve around sex for you?”

“Not everything. Enjoy a good fight as well – sometimes before, sometimes after, occasionally during. Anyway, talk about pots and kettles. You’re a teenager; you’re not supposed to think about anything other than sex.”

“That’s me: Linoleum boy. But even teenagers have their down time. And now you’re the one changing the subject.” I just grin and leer at him, ‘til he shakes his head. At least he’s relaxed a bit now. “So there, I’ve been honest. I want to drive, so that I can really feel like it’s me doing this. So that I’m not just watching from the sidelines. I could have stayed in Sunnydale and done that. Okay?”

“I get it.” And I really do. Spent long enough having Angelus make decisions for me, not to know what he’s talking about.

“So before I get all gloomy and introspective again, can we get back to the original topic – me and music changing rights.”

“You’re not going to let this one go, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm, knew I shouldn’t have let you get that extra large coffee, last time we stopped. Even with mellower music you’re still going to be an annoying git, aren’t you?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, here’s the deal. You get music rights, but only every other day. And if you put on any of that suicidal, country crap, then all bets are off.”

“And you think you can give that one away, because you think that’s all I’ve got.”

Bugger, didn’t realise I was that transparent. “Don’t know what you mean, pet. I’m sure you’ve got a whole mix of stuff in that bag of yours.”

He’s rummaging in the duffle at his feet, but after a moment he stops and looks up. “And the driving?”

“That’s a biggie, love. Don’t let just anyone drive my baby. Wouldn’t let Dru near it, but I understand what you’re after. Thing is, you want something from me, it seems only fair I get something in return.”

“Uh huh.” He straightens up quickly, cassette clutched tightly in his hand and looks at me warily. “So, what do you want?”

“Don’t really know, pet. Depends on my mood. You know what I’m like?”

“Yeah, and that’s why I’m worried.

Smart boy. “Tell you what. We’ve a way to go, yet. So why don’t you get some kip and I’ll wake you up in a while, and you can drive then. In the meantime, it’ll give me some time to think about the down payment.” Oh yeah, this is going to be good.

“Oh God, this is going to involve big Xander type humiliation, I can just tell.”

“I wouldn’t do that, love. Maybe a little bit of education, that’s all. Told you I’d broaden your horizons.”

“Shit, I think I’m the one who left their brain behind.”

I’m almost feeling sorry for him, now. Almost, but I can’t resist going in for the kill. “Of course, you could always not drive.”

“Oh no. Not so fast, blondie. You are not going to psyche me out that way. Okay, it’s a deal.” I can almost hear the ‘gulp’, as he stands up for himself, but my boy’s been doing a lot of growing up lately and he’s got the balls to keep on coming at me. “So music rights start, right now!” He doesn’t even wait for an answer, just jabs at the stop button on the tape deck and Joe Strummer gets cut off in his prime. He knows I’m watching, so he puts the tape carefully back in the glove box and presses his own music into the waiting slot. His expression is a strange mixture of pleased and defiant, and a little bit anxious, and I’m just resigning myself to an hour of Hank or Patsy, when something totally different comes out of the speakers.

He gives me a long sideways look and then slides down in his seat and shuts his eyes. And Muddy Waters starts growling about a Mannish Boy. The dirty guitar curls round the base of my spine and sinks into my bones, and the words tumble from an old, dead guy’s mouth and go straight to my cock. That boy knows exactly what he’s doing and he just keeps on surprising me. Now I just have to figure out how I’m going to get him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wiki Link about Mannish Boy <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mannish_Boy>. I couldn't find a direct link to the song, but if you put the title into I Tunes, there's about 5 different versions of Muddy Waters signing the song. God, that is one classic blues guitar riff.


	8. Diversions 8: Jack Rabbits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike collects his payment

_**Diversions 8: Jack Rabbits**_  
Beta extraordinaire: [](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/profile)[**thismaz**](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/)  


Well that went better than I thought it would. The boy’s taste in music isn’t too bad after all, so if I could just get rid of the country crap next time he’s out and about on one of his sightseeing trips, then we’ll be doing just fine. He handled the car pretty well, not that I’m actually going to tell him that. Okay, there was a near miss with a marauding jack rabbit and I don’t know who got more of a fright, the rabbit or the boy. If I’d been driving I’d have turned round and nailed the little fucker, but I suppose that’s the difference between us. Apart from that, it was a pretty straight forward drive and if he noticed that I turned over the wheel to him on the most desolate part of the road I could find, then he hasn’t said anything. He’s not stupid, my boy. Knows not to push his luck too far. And that’s the problem - he shouldn’t know, he shouldn’t have to know.

“Earth to Spike.”

“What do you want now?” Shit, that came out harsher than I meant and he’s looking at me, wide eyed and a little bit skittish.

“Umm, sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just wondered if you wanted anything to eat, before I finish the lot.” He waves a hand at the take-out containers on the floor next to yet another crappy motel bed. “You seemed kind of preoccupied, but I didn’t want to just finish this if you wanted any.”

I shake my head and reach for my fags and lighter. “Sorry, pet, I was miles away, you’re fine. Finish up what’s there, yeah. I’ll get something to eat later.” He nods and starts to hoover up the rest of the Chinese, but I can see the wheels turning in his head. “I’m bagging it, remember? Got a contact in town. I’ll go out later and get some take-out of my own. “

“Okay.” He looks a bit sheepish, but I don’t blame him for having the thought. Probably hasn’t had many people keep their promises over the years and I can’t believe how pissed off that makes me feel.

I slouch against the motel door, drawing on my fag and watch him as he finishes his food and wonder how much longer we can do this. When he was planning his trip and making his lists, don’t suppose he pictured an endless line of crappy motels and bagged blood and feeling like he has to ask permission to do something. Christ, that was why he left the Hellmouth in the first place. To get some freedom. To get some air. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve not just replaced one kind of prison with another. Fuck it, now I feel like I’ve listening to a pile of his country shit. Got to snap out of this. Got to get some control. Got to play the part. That’s what he’s expecting. That’s what I’ll do.

  
I’m just finishing my fag, as he bundles the cardboard cartons into an already overflowing waste bin and he stretches and burps and looks suitably embarrassed, before grinning at me. And I grin back. He looks so young and so fucking corruptible.

“So, what’s the plan now, oh evil mastermind. We could go and terrorise the local wildlife, or plan the next part of the route, or hey we could go wild and get some sleep. Yep, that sounds like a plan. Don’t know about you, but all that driving’s made me really tired and I think a nap is just what the vampire ordered. “ He’s babbling and he knows it. He knows damn fine what’s coming next, and there’s no amount of distraction’s going to stop it.

I shove away from the door and stalk towards him and he’s doing the perfect jack rabbit in the headlights impression. Only he’s got nowhere to run to. “Right love, reckon we need to talk about that payment. Nice, clean cut American boy like you, wouldn’t want to be in debt now, would you? Would be unpatriotic like, don’t you think?”

“Umm, couldn’t we put it on account or something? Anyway, I remember reading, when you grow up you need to build up a credit rating or something. That means borrowing stuff, right?”

“Think you’ll find it means borrowing stuff and then being good for the debt. Paying on time. So pet, are you good for the debt?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Yes, I’m good for the debt.”

“Right then, I’m calling it in. So pet, what’s it going to be? Could give you a bit of a spanking; see that lovely arse of yours get all rosy and glowing. I’d definitely enjoy that and I think you might too, once you let go of some of those inhibitions of yours. Or we could do a quick push over to Phoenix. There’s a couple of very nice clubs – bit like we went to in San Fran, but with just a little more of an edge. Not so much collar and tie jobs, just the collar would do. I can just picture it.” I think he’s about to hyperventilate and I didn’t know skin could go that colour of red, without the spanking. After a couple of beats I take pity on him and put him out of his misery. “But maybe that’s all pushing it a bit. And now that I think on it, I’ve got something else I’d like to try. If you’re willing, of course? But I need to know that you trust me. You told me you did the night we left the Hellmouth, but we’re a few miles down the road now. I need to know, despite all your fears and your worries, that you know I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Okay.” There’s a hitch in his voice, but I think he’s still calming down after the stuff about the spanking and the collar, so I’m not too worried.”

“Okay, then. So strip, pet.”

“What?”

“Strip. Simple enough. Don’t think you need the instruction book. Remember I’m not going to take you to any club and I’m not here to punish you, though if it was needed I’d do it like a shot. It’s not like I haven’t seen all of you before, love, and a right pretty sight you are. So let me see you, yeah? Remember your lessons.”

He looks me in the eye for one long moment and time seems to stretch between us as he considers his next move. Then his hands start to flutter up to his chest and come to rest over his nipples and the moment snaps and we’re right there and it couldn’t get any more real. And he starts to tease and torment himself through thin, worn cotton and I wonder what the sensation would feel like through silk. He’s taking it so slow, pulling out the exquisite torture and every pass causes a small moan and I have to stop myself moaning in response. Flick and pinch, forward and back, hitch and breathe, the dance is hypnotic and I really want to play. But not yet. After what seems like a year, his hands move south and tap dance along his fly and I’m losing myself in the sight of long tanned fingers teasing and twirling on the zip ‘til I think the metal might just melt under his touch. And he’s hard. So fucking hard. And I’m right there with him. This was meant to be my game, but I’ve let my guard down and he knows just what buttons to press. My boy remembers all his lessons and he’s got his head thrown back like he’s lost in his own private ‘fuck me’ world and that’s when I break.

“Clothes…Off…Now!” He’s head snaps back and he fixes me with that wide innocent gaze, but there’s a predator right there under the surface and I feel like I know what Angelus looked like when he was young. He knows me. He doesn’t trust me, really. Not in his soul. Not when I feed. But he knows how to play, he’s learned that lesson well and as he finishes the show and slides out of his jeans and shirt, I’ve got only one objective in my mind - to show him exactly who’s driving this baby.

“Down on the bed, pet. Want to see you. Want to explore you. Want to lick every inch of you. Want to make you come simply ‘cause I touched you.” He slides back onto the bed and eases backwards, watching me as I slink towards him. His fingers are scrabbling on the surface of the covers and he can’t get hold, as he shoves a worn blanket down on the floor at the side of the bed. Good, that’s one less distraction. “Want you to know that I’ve got that power, pet. Want you to think and feel and know, that I could raise one finger and you’d melt.” He’s shivering, sweat beaded across acres of smooth, tanned skin and I haven’t even touched him yet, but there’s plenty of time. Got all night. I crawl slowly up the bed ‘til I’m kneeling over him and push him flat. “That’s it, pet. Relax. Trust me. Trust Spike.” I grind down, cock against cock, hot skin against coarse denim and he’s panting so hard, as his hands come up to grab at my belt. “Oh no, love. No touching. That’s part of the payment. This is all for me. You don’t get to drive, now.” I push his hands back down onto the shiny quilt cover and he fists it in response to another grind of my hips. “Good boy. Such a good boy, aren’t you? All laid out for me, being so obedient. Being so fucking delectable.”

I lean forward ‘til I’m pressed against him full length and lick a long stripe up the side of his throat, and his breath hitches again as his eyes fix on mine. He’s trembling under me and I know every Scooby instinct is telling him to run, as I gnaw lightly against the base of his neck. But his hands just grip the covers more tightly and he tilts his head further to the side. And I start to suck. He tastes so fucking sweet and I think I could set up camp right here for the next few months. I can hear all that lovely blood just singing below the surface and it’s like a siren, calling to me. Calling to my demon and I’m so damn hard. There’s a keening, splitting the silence like a knife edge and for a moment I don’t know if it’s coming from him, or me, as I lose myself in this primal act. Marking, sucking, gnawing, branding – making all that hot sweet blood, boil, ‘til it’s all there, waiting for me, ready for the taking. And his hips are moving, rocking against me in time with my sucking. It’s like a heartbeat - one and two, rock and back, rub and grind, suck and lick and it’s so fucking tempting. There’s so much power here, having him so naked and vulnerable and laid out below me and my duster feels hot and heavy on my shoulders as it slithers across his skin in time with our rocking. All I can smell in the air is heat and sweat and sex, as I cocoon my boy in leather - hot against hotter skin and I want to wrap him up like a present and horde him away, where no one else can touch him.

I blow gently across the bruised skin at this throat and he shudders. I feel like I could fly from the friction of his hips against my crotch and, as I haul down the zip of my jeans and get some relief, I start to lick back along his throat and work my way down. I pause for a moment at his nipples, still peaked from his earlier play and kiss them both reverently before continuing the journey south.

“Please, Spike. Please…” A whole litany of pleading is tumbling from his lips and I don’t suppose he knows what he’s begging for. But it’s my game and I always play to win.

“Hush, love. No talking. No touching. Those are the rules. You just have to remember the rules.” He’s nodding, sweaty hair falling across his face and I come up for air and suck hard on his bottom lip, ‘til I feel like I’m consuming him. His body arches up under me and he’s so close and I leave his mouth behind and start back down. He’s so far gone now and every touch brings a whine and a wail, but he’s my obedient boy and there’s no talking. He learns his lessons so damn well and in an instant, a wave of fear tears through me as I realise the implications. Another whimper and I push the thought away for now and latch onto one of his hip bones and start to worry at sweet, delicate flesh. He’s so damn hot and so far gone, lost in his own little world and he’s not going to hear me as I whisper benedictions against hot, salty skin. Don’t leave me, love. Don’t love me. Don’t feel me. Don’t trust me…

Need to end this. Need to end this now. Need to stop these feelings before they’re all I can feel. Before they’re all he can see. I shove myself upright, towering over the offering laid out before me. “Watch me, love.” His eyes are fixed on me and his chest is heaving as I start to fist my cock. He wants to touch, I know he wants to touch, but he’s so damn good and his hands tremble against the covers as he forces them still. His head’s up off the bed and his hair is sticking to his forehead as he watches the show. He’s shaking and he’s close, so close and then I see it in his eyes – the need and the want and the hunger. And I know that it’s time. I run one cool finger down the length of his cock as I whisper to him. “Come for me, pet.” And he does. Body arched and taut under me. Leather caressing his skin as I pull down hard on my cock and scream in time and release comes, like both sanctuary and curse, marking soft, untainted flesh. And I shudder in time with his heartbeat.

We lie there for long, silent moments and I wait for him to come back to me. And he does. Slowly, sluggishly, his eyes open and he stares at me, eyes blinking like he’s only just learned the action. “Wow. That was….. that was intense. So, you going to do that every time I drive?”

“Probably not, pet. Don’t want to endanger the poor delicate human. You can get too much of a good thing you know?”

“Uh huh” He still sounds muzzy and there’s sleep hovering at the edge of his voice.

“Get some kip, love. I’ve got to go out for a bit. See about getting some blood, remember. You’ll be fine while I’m gone.

“Okay.” He’s too far gone to protest and as I push off him and do up my jeans, he’s curled up on top of the covers, like he’s not got a care in the world. He’s so fucking trusting and so far away in his head, and I wonder if this is how he looked before he discovered what goes bump in the night. I lean down and kiss softly against his neck where the bruise is turning all sorts of colours and then haul the spare blanket off the floor and cover him gently.

I watch him for the longest time, and then I turn towards the door and head out into the night. Got some blood to get. Got some rabbits to kill. Got some phone calls to make.


	9. Diversions 9: Little Green Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys talk about aliens and Spike thinks about time

_**Diversions 9: Little Green Men**_  
Beta extraordinaire: [](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/profile)[**thismaz**](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/)  


“Xan, love, we’re not arguing about this again. I’m a bloody master vampire. I’ve got a reputation to maintain. So once and for all, I’m not visiting the damn UFO Museum.” Not like I wanted to come to bloody Roswell in the first place, but I can’t tell him that.

“Oh, come on Spike, it’ll be fun. You can mock the exhibits and tell me how you were there in the 50’s when they found the UFO, and you can rant about how wrong the X-files got it. Please, Spike, I really want to go see this. There’s even sewer access, I checked. Phoned up and said I was with the town sewage service. So it’s vamp friendly. Hey, maybe that’s their way of making it alien friendly as well. Maybe the aliens had a sunlight phobia. That’s why they’ve got those big eyes, like the animals in the rain forest that never see the sun. Maybe they’re vampire aliens – how cool would that be?” He’s practically bouncing at the idea and I’m feeling seasick just watching him.

“If you’ve ever seen Plan 9 from Outer Space, you’d back peddle on the coolness factor, pet.”

“Shit! I’d forgotten about that.” He stops bouncing for a moment, but then perks right up again. “But hey, Ed Wood, that gives it a certain something, don’t you think? Thinking about it though, aliens couldn’t be vamps – all that leathery skin, I don’t suppose they’re slapping on the Factor 40. Makes me think of George Hamilton, because if ever there was a man who should have kept away from the sun… Never mind aliens, he’s just disturbing.”

Sometimes, I really do wonder what kind of roadmap he’s got in his head, ‘cause I really can’t keep up. “Xander, you are seriously giving me a headache here. Just go. Do the damn museum tour. Spank your inner geek. Go!”

“Are you saying you want me to leave?” He’s actually pouting and there’s a quiver in his voice, like he’s hurt, but I can see the gleam in his eyes and he doesn’t fool me for a minute.

“No, I’m saying that we don’t have to be joined at the hip. Sometimes our tastes differ, that’s all. Go see the UFO’s, please?”

“But.”

“Pet!”

“Okay. If you’re sure?” He’s already half way out of the door, so I think he’s pretty confident in my answer.

“Sure, I’m sure. Never been surer in my unlife.”

He nods and grabs the room key from the shelf by the door. “Right, then. This is me going. You want me to get you anything, while I’m out?”

“No, I’m fine. Got my smokes. Don’t need anything else.”

Now he’s hovering, right by the door, and the gleam has been replaced by real uncertainty. “You know, if you want, I can stay. I’d don’t have to go out. It’s no biggie.” And he means it, that’s the problem.

“Xan, love, you’re a Sci-Fi fan. You’re in pigging Roswell. It’s a biggie.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going.”

“Open the bloody window on the way out. It’s like an oven in here. You don’t want to come back to roast vamp, do you?”

He grins as he cracks open the dirty window and carefully pulls the drapes shut. “Nah, it’s a bit too soon for Thanksgiving. Anyway, I reckon you’d be tough – with your age and all.”

“Oi, nothing to do with age. Bit of maturity makes the meat that bit sweeter, if you catch my drift.” I run one finger down the zip of my jeans and wait for the reaction. But he just shakes his head as he opens the door.

“Got a date with an alien right now. I’ll see if I can squeeze you into my busy schedule, later on.”

“You can squeeze anything you like, pet.” But there’s no answer and he’s gone.

Christ, that was hard work. We’re not joined at the hip – yeah right. Get any closer and we’d be bloody Siamese twins. I was the one that encouraged the dependency, and now that it’s here, it scares the shit out of me. Can’t believe I’m road tripping with a Hellmouth teenager who knows about demons, but gets all wide eyed and gooey about aliens. Angelus would be laughing his cashmere socks off, if he knew. And Dru would probably mutter something about how the aliens whispered to her.

The small room seems strangely smaller, now he’s not here and I pace from the door to the end of the bed and back. The third count is the same as the first two and I really need a distraction. I start on a new packet of fags and lean up against the wall by the door, and I let my mind drift back overthe last few weeks. I’m thinking about brownies and bridges and blood and a sweet, hot boy who has no idea how much power he has. I shake my head and reach for another cigarette, and I’m surprised that there’s only two left. I consider going for broke, but after a moment, I close the packet and shove it back into the pocket of my duster. I start to wander round the room, picking things up and putting them down at random ‘til I reach the side table by the bed. There’s a pile of gaudy leaflets, waxing lyrical about the delights of the area. Bottomless lakes – hmm, maybe I could drown Peaches and he wouldn’t come back. Now there’s an idea. I could lure him here with the promise of the Dragonfly festival. Oh Christ, Bobby Joe’s Bar and Lounge, I just bet I’d fit right in there. And they’ve got a resident Lynard Skynard tribute band; bloody hell, better hide that one from the boy, he’d probably want to go. Try to persuade me it would be fun. Fun my arse. And here’s the museum. Looks like someone crashed a UFO into the cinema. Suppose that’s probably the point.

I can just picture him now, getting all breathless at the sight of a plastic alien body, and staring at a bit of tinfoil, like it’s his own, personal holy grail. He’s such a bloody romantic sometimes. He really does want to believe. Suppose he needs to convince himself that there has to be more to existence than this poxy little planet.

Of course, once he’s wasted time mooning over the exhibits, he’ll probably drop a pile of cash in the souvenir shop. Makes my teeth itch just thinking about the tat he might come back with. If he brings me back an alien key chain, I really will spank him.

I glance at the clock on the wall, but it’s frozen at half past 3. Kind of appropriate because looking around this shitty room, it looks like time hasn’t moved since the 50’s. I resist the urge to look at the door. I don’t think he’ll be back for a while. Once he’s finished with the freak show he’ll probably have an amble round the rest of the town, not that that’ll take long. Don’t’ think he realises just how much time he spends in the dark these days and a day in the sunshine might just set him thinking.

We’re heading for Texas tomorrow. Boy wants to visit The Alamo and how damn appropriate is that? I wonder if I could sneak in a side visit to Waco, on the way. Seems only fair to get to see the sights on my list, as well as the ones on his. Might even let him drive a bit; get him used to being behind the wheel again.

I throw the leaflets back on the table and sit on the edge of the bed. And the minutes tick and tick and tick, and the broken clock in my head starts to spin. I’m thinking about brown eyes and dark hair and soft skin and my mind could be anywhere in the last 100 years. And they leave. In the end, they always leave. And I’m on my own again. Until there’s another pair of brown eyes.

I heave myself up from the bed and try to shake the mood, but it hangs heavy round my shoulders like my duster has just doubled its weight. I wander over to the open window and carefully pull back the drapes and it’s starting to get dark outside.

I’m standing in the gloom near the open window, watching the shadows lengthen, waiting for my boy to come back. And I pass the time like I always do – smoking another cigarette. I snap the Zippo and as I bring it to the tip of the fag, the light flickers wildly in the breeze. And I wonder about moths and flames and changes in the wind.


	10. Diversions 10: Line in the Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike does the right thing, doesn’t he?

_**Diversions 10: Line in the Sand**_  
Beta extraordinaire: [](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/profile)[**thismaz**](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/) Thanks for sorting me out with this one, love!  


I stand in the shadows watching the coming dawn and finger the time bomb in my pocket. My boy’s asleep and I know he thinks I’ve been out all night, doing what demons do. Only I’ve not. No feeding, no fucking, because I promised I wouldn’t do the first, at least not for a while. And not doing the second, ‘cause why would I? – got a hot boy waiting for me, why would I look anywhere else?

I used to mock Peaches for running after the Slayer. Laughed myself silly at the way he’d roll over and play the tame, little vampire. But now the Doc is on the other foot and I’m sure he’d laugh like hell. But I’m not like him. My boy knows what I am. He’s adapted. He’s learned. The Slayer never learned. But that’s the problem I keep coming back to - he shouldn’t have to learn. My hand grips more tightly and I can feel the edge of the metal press into my palm and it hurts worse than any knife. I open the door of the DeSoto and pull the small bundle of keys out of my pocket and stash them under the seat. Right then. Job done. For now.

The first rays of the sun start to creep over the horizon and, as I stand in the deep shadow of the motel porch and smoke one last fag, I watch soft tendrils of sunlight crawl down side streets; fingers of fire as they creep across the dusty ground. For a moment I think about having another cigarette, in defiance of the encroaching dawn, but I’m no Canute and I know when to bow out gracefully. It’s all about knowing your strengths and your weaknesses, and as I turn the door handle and retreat into the stifling darkness, I can see both rolled up in one delicious package, sprawled out on the bed, covered by a barely there sheet.

I shrug out of my duster and, as I move towards the bed, he stirs sluggishly and opens one bleary eye.

“Spike? That you?”

“You think we’re being burgled? ‘Cause, there’s obviously so much to steal!”

“Smart ass!”

“Always, pet. Go back to sleep.”

He’s got both eyes open now, and he’s looking at me curiously. “Where have you been? I heard you go out. You were being sneaky. I could tell, because you were trying to be all casual and it so doesn’t work on you.”

“Nothing gets passed you, love. Just had a bit of business to do. Didn’t want to disturb you. Settle down and go back to sleep.” I strip off quickly and slide in beside him and the intoxicating heat from his body never, ever gets old. “Sleep, pet. Got a lot to do tomorrow. Get some rest while you can.” I curl up behind him and bathe in his warmth and his scent and his feel. Want to imprint this so deep in my bones, so I can call it up whenever I want. ‘Cause after tonight I think I’m probably never going to feel this, ever again.

  
*****************

“So, what’s on the agenda tonight? I’ll have to do the Alamo on my own tomorrow, ‘cause there’s probably going to be enough dust around without you trying to add to it!” He wiggles his eyebrows at me to take the sting out of the comment, but it’s funny how a bad joke makes everything so clear.

“I thought we’d take a walk, pet. Get a breath of air. Not good for you, being stuck in this little sweat box all day.”

“Walk, okay. I can do walks. Just put one foot in front of the other. Easy. Hey, and some people thought I’d never graduate.” He’s grinning at me and I can’t help smiling back. All that energy, all that life, just bubbling under the surface, waiting for a release, like a geyser. All it needs is the trigger.

I shake my head at him. “I’ll just be a moment. Need to get something out the car and then we’re set.”

I walk away from him and lean against the door of the DeSoto for a moment, collecting my courage. I feel like his eyes are burning into my back and I take a long, unnecessary breath. Got to keep going. Can’t stop now.

“Spike?”

“Be right with you, pet.”

I push myself up and haul open the car door, before I can change my mind. Leaning down, I grope under the drivers seat until my hand settles round the keys. The car is stifling and the air feels like treacle. I just know that he’s watching me, wondering what’s coming next and for a moment I feel like I’m trapped in space, body caught between hot, black metal and hotter brown eyes. Then I hear him shuffling restlessly at my back and I push down hard on the seat back and force myself to stand up and turn around.

“Got you a present, love.”

“A present?” He looks intrigued and confused, and I want to grind the keys into the dust and pull him towards me and never let go. But I don’t.

“Yeah, thought you might recognise these.” I throw the keys towards him and time seems to stretch endlessly as they spin through the air. Commitment, surrender, release, trust, hope, despair…love – the words thunder through my brain, as I watch the metal tumble in space and then there’s warm hands, flexing, remembering childhood baseball games, and he catches. And I die a little more.

He stares at the keys for a second and then his eyes are back on my face – fixed, questioning, interrogating and I don’t know if I’ve got an answer he’ll believe. I remember this game. I’ve read the book. I’ve seen it on TV. I’ve lived that life. Tinker, Tailor, Solider, Spy – always have a wall you won’t let anyone get behind. Always keep your innermost thoughts and desires safe behind the barrier. Give them a sliver of information, then another, then another. Tell them what you think they want to hear. Get to the wall and make it seems like your last stand – your own personal Alamo. Make them work for the secrets so they’ll never know that there’s so much more to give.

I’m so far gone in my thoughts and for a moment I struggle to realise that he’s in my face – talking. Doubtful words, tentative words, words of confusion and concern and for a moment I really believe that my barriers are strong. And then I look into his eyes and they shatter.

“These are my keys. The keys to my car. What are you playing at, Spike?” I just look at him and stay silent because he already knows the answer; I can see it in his face. “So this is the big surprise. This is the result of your skulking about. So are you going to whisk me off to some garage right now, so that the keys can be reunited with the car? I mean, they must be missing each other. And then this poor, confused boy, who obviously doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, can drive away from the big, wicked vampire and feel all shiny and clean again and renew his subs for the white hat club, with only a small penalty for taking a month out. Am I close to the mark, or is the sheer bizarreness of road tripping through America’s tourist traps with a century old dead guy finally making me delusional? I’m voting for the latter right now. Maybe you slipped me some of that opium stash you were so fond of back in Sunnydale, and I’m hallucinating. That would be an explanation I could live with.

“It’s not like that, pet.” He’s just glaring at me and I wonder why this seemed like the right thing to do. I wonder when the hell I ever tried to do the right thing.

“So, going to tell me what it is like?”

“Let’s take a walk, love.”

He opens his mouth for the come back, but then shuts it again, abruptly, and I’ve no idea what’s going on in his head. I put my hand gently against the small of his back and push him forward. I expect resistance, and I get it, but only for a moment, and then he’s compliant to my touch, allowing himself to be guided as we start to walk. I glance surreptitiously at his face, but for once there’s no clue to what he’s thinking, and that worries me more than anything else. He’s always carried his thoughts in his eyes, but now there’s nothing, just black void and I can’t believe how stupid I’m being. I pause before an unobtrusive wooden door and grab his sleeve to stop him, and he starts like he’s coming out of a sleepwalk. I turn the handle and step through and he stands outside, silhouetted in the twilight, refusing reality. Refusing my solution. And for a moment I wish I could take it back.

“Going to come in, pet? Can’t force you, but if I offered you brownies, would you follow me?” He shrugs, trying for nonchalant, but I can finally see the hurt in his eyes and at least it’s an emotion I can deal with.

“Offering treats to impressionable boys? I think you could arrested for that. What are you going to offer me next – a puppy?”

“If that’s what you wanted, love.”

“You know what I want right now? The truth, Spike. Tell me the truth. No fudges. No obfuscations. No drip feeding. Be honest. Can you do that?”

“Come with me, pet. Reunite the keys with the car and I’ll be honest. I extend my hand and he hesitates, just for a moment, and then he takes it and I hang on for dear life. We walk forward and as the space opens up, there’s his car and I feel like we’ve come full circle. I could close my eyes and picture him, that night in Sunnydale saying goodbye to his friends, knowing that I was playing them, realising that he’d been set up and still trusting me enough to come with me.

“You want to know what this is about? It’s about this.” I fish around in the pocket of my duster and pull out a ragged piece of paper.

“Spike, I don’t want to state the obvious, but it’s a bit of paper.”

“Observant git, aren’t you. It’s what’s on it that’s important.” I offer it to him and he takes it, holding it gingerly by the corner, like it might poison him. He might be right.

He stares at the paper for a long moment and I hold my breath as he glances up at me and then back down, like he’s not very sure what he’s seeing. I start to count to ten, but before I get to four, he’s back to staring at me. “I don’t understand. It’s a list of places to visit. My list of places to visit, that we talked about in the warehouse back before graduation. But that was just one of those conversations. I never wrote them down like this. They were just in my head. “

“I know that, pet. I wrote them down.” He’s looking at me curiously now, all the anger from earlier banished as he tries to understand. “I needed to remember that the trip was about you. About what you wanted. I want you to read out the list to me.”

“What?”

“Read me the list. Tell me what it says.”

He’s got that look that says he thinks he’d better humour the crazy guy, but that’s okay. “Umm, it says: Grand Canyon, Yellowstone Park, The Alamo, Disneyland, Golden Gate Bridge, Magic Mountain, Nashville, Sears Tower Sky Deck, Grand Central Station.” He still looks confused and I see I’m going to have to spell it out to him.

“Xan, love. You read that and you recited a list. I listened to you saying it, but do you know what I really heard?"

He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow and it’s such a perfect imitation, that I don’t know whether to kiss him or spank him.

“I heard - _I want to stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon. I want to see the geysers go off in Yellowstone Park. I want to visit The Alamo. Spend days getting lost in Disneyland. Cross the Golden Gate Bridge. Go to Magic Mountain and ride the roller coasters. I want to visit Nashville and wallow in not having people complain about my taste in music. I want to stand on the Sky Deck on the Sears Tower and look down on Chicago, then take a train that will take me all the way to Grand Central Station, so I can imagine people dancing through the halls. It sounds crazy, but I just want to see….stuff.”_

“But that was weeks ago. How do you remember what I actually said?”

“Suppose this is my cue to do the cheesy movie line about how I remember everything you’ve said since we met. But I have to admit that I’ve kind of binned some of the stuff about crab apples and cats that you came out with when you were stoned. Think I was too busy just enjoying the view to really pay attention to what you were saying then.”

He has the grace to blush as he obviously remembers crawling into my lap, half naked, and me getting him off while he was high, and I wish things were as simple as they seemed back then.

He starts to move away from me and back towards the car, glancing down at the list and then back to me and I can almost see the wheels turning in his head. “This is the big noble gesture, isn’t it? You think you’re getting in the way of my road trip, and this is your solution?”

Always was a sharp one. “How many places are on the list, pet?”

He looks confused again, but he glances down at the paper. “Umm, nine.”

“How many places have you got to see, so far?”

It’s like a little light bulb has gone off in his head as he starts to work it out. “I’ve been to two, but it’ll be three tomorrow when I get to see The Alamo.”

“We’ve been on the road for the best part of a month, love. It’s not a good ratio.”

“It’s a big country. We’re just taking our time. We’ve just had to work around the logistics of you being all flammable. But it’s working. Isn’t it? I mean, I’ve got all summer. I can take my time.” He’s staring at me, desperately waiting for me to agree, but his hands are shaking and the piece of paper in his hand is crumpled and torn.

“Xander, love. Listen to yourself.”

“Stop it.” He’s got his eyes shut now and he sounds like a child who wants the grown up to make the bogey man go away.

“Why?”

“Stop being rational. Stop being reasonable. Please. Annoying, exasperating, belligerent, I can take, but please, don’t be sensible.”

“One of us has to be, love. I don’t want to do this, believe me. I’ve been putting it off for days. But I need to give you the choice. Think about it – of the two places you visited, I tried to talk you out of both of them, didn’t I?” He’s shaking his head in denial. “It didn’t work in the end, but I did try, didn’t I?” He’s breathing hard, but he can’t tell me I’m wrong. “And in Roswell, you wouldn’t have gone to the museum if I’d asked you to stay. I was so close to telling you to stay. Hear that – ‘telling’ not ‘asking’. I’m selfish, Xander. I’m greedy. I’m a demon. You’ve got too comfortable. I think even if I stopped bagging it now and went back to drinking from the tap, you’d let me. I’m not some fluffy teddy bear that you can collect along with your comics and your action figures. You can’t put me in a box under your bed when you’ve finished playing. I’m possessive and obsessive and I want you. Make no mistake about that. I want you for keeps. But I need to be sure that you want that too, and you’re not ready for that kind of commitment. Not yet.” He opens his mouth to disagree, but I keep on going. “I’m not patronising you. I’m not saying that you’re too young to make up your mind. But I need you to be sure about what you’re doing, because if you come to me, I won’t ever let go. I don’t want you to resent me, love. Not now. Not in the future. You need to fly on your own for a while. See the sights on your own timeline and make up your own mind. If I’m lucky, you’ll come back to me.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t push me off the ledge."

“Just a gentle nudge, love. But I’ve got a rope cinched round your waist, so you’re never going to fall. When you get to the bottom, it’ll be up to you whether you undo the knot.”

“Wow, bondage metaphors. We never did get to do that, did we?”

“Leave it as something to look forward to, yeah?”

“Sweet talker!”

“That’s me, love.”

He shakes his head and runs his hand over the wing of the car. The minutes pass, one by one and I make myself wait and watch his fingers running obsessively over the smooth metal. Finally he looks back up and there’s a barely there smile on his face. It’s not much, but it’s a start. “You know, you could have just bought me a car, or something. It would have been easier.”

“And have you accusing me of trying to buy you?”

“Okay, I can see that. Though if I’d know you were planning this, I would have wandered by some dealerships and dropped some really big hints.” The small smile is slightly bigger. That’s it, just baby steps and we’ll get there. “So how the hell did you get my car down here? Three taps on your ruby slippers? Though I’m thinking that wouldn’t be a good look on you.”

“Oh I don’t know, pet. Should have seen me in my glam rock days.” That gets an outright laugh and for the first time tonight I actually think we might be alright and I really want a cigarette. “I made a call when we were back in Arizona. Got the Crombec who was housing the car to have one of his brood drive it down. Thought you’d want your own wheels.” He’s nodding like it makes perfect sense, but then he stops and looks at me thoughtfully.

“So, nothing to do with the grand gesture making me feel even closer to you? Like I’m in your debt or something?” He really is a shrewd little bugger.

I just grin and shake my head. “No flies on you, pet.”

“Must be the ‘eau de vampire’ hanging around me that frightens them off. “

“You know, I don’t know whether to take that as an insult or a compliment?”

He smiles enigmatically. “Well I guess you’ll just have to work it out.”

“Git.”

“Yep. You’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

“I will. So are you going?”

“You know I am. You say it’s a choice, but it’s not really and we both know it.”

There’s a hitch in his voice and I move forward and run my fingers through his hair. “Xander, please love.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re right. I think that’s what galls me more than anything. You’re even giving me the right reasons. I don’t know what I’d have done, if it’d been because you were bored. I’ve been expecting that. Every time we’ve disagreed about music or routes or what to see, I’ve wondered when you’d get tired of me. But I can’t even get properly angry and argue, because I know that you’re right.”

“I’ll never be bored of you. Not ever. Won’t be a moment that I won’t be thinking of you and wondering what you’re up to. But you need to do this. I was wrong to force myself into your trip. I don’t regret doing it, but it was the wrong thing to do, and I don’t want to spoil what we’ve got by having you resent all the things you didn’t get to do because I was too selfish to let you do them.” I lean forward and place one soft kiss into his hair and he sighs and leans into me and I feel like I could stand here forever.

He finally pulls away and looks up at me and he seems so calm. My boy is so grown up and I wonder again what the hell I’m doing letting him go. “You know, whatever happens, I’ll have to come back to you.”

“Why’s that, love?”

“I still haven’t learned how to Tango. You promised, remember?”

“So I did, love. And I will.” I run one finger down his jaw and continue the slow glide down his arm ‘til I reach his fingertips and take a gentle hold. “But for now, why don’t we head back. You can prove to me you remember how to waltz.“


	11. Diversions 11: Say Hello, Wave Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander has music rights

_**Diversions 11: Say Hello, Wave Goodbye**_  
Beta extraordinaire: [](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/profile)[**thismaz**](http://thismaz.livejournal.com/)  


We walk back, hand in hand, through the dark, deserted streets and I’m not sure which of us is clinging harder. I can hardly believe I’m really doing this, and there’s a part of me that’s furious he didn’t put up more of a fight. It’s a poisonous, little voice that sounds so much like Angelus; it’s mocking and taunting, telling me that the boy was relieved to be offered a way out, a chance to escape. Telling me that I’m weak and that a real master vampire would lock the boy up where he could never break free and keep such a tasty morsel all to himself. But just as the poison starts to spread, it’s like Dru is whispering in my other ear and I’m back in the Sunnydale warehouse thinking about kittens and claws and soft, furry underbellies, and I feel my boy come to a halt, and I come back.

“I think this is our stop.”

He opens the door and the heat and the dark seep into my bones and I can almost see him start to relax as the atmosphere curls around him.

“So, what now?”

“Well, love. Got this dance card.” I drape myself over his back and one hand sneaks round and worms its way into the front pocket of his jeans, pausing just for a moment ‘til he whimpers, and then pulls out the ragged list of his destinations. I step back reluctantly and he turns towards me, eyes huge and questioning. “Seems like I discovered there were a few dances on the list that I didn’t know. Had to withdraw gracefully before I made a fool of myself and sent my partner screaming in the opposite direction.”

“Bad footwork will do that for you.” He smiles at me, but I know that he’s mocking himself and I get a momentary flash of a gawky teenager in a loud shirt dancing by himself in crowded club. “So, I think you promised me a last dance? Aren’t you scared I’ll step on your toes?”

“I’m willing to take the risk if you are, love?”

“I can do that. But remember, I’ve got music rights.” He grins for a moment, like a little boy, and then turns and starts to rummage through his duffle, discarding tape after tape ‘til he finds what he’s after. I’ve got no idea what’s in his head, but I trust his judgement and after he puts the tape into the deck I’ve carried with me through the trip, I watch him as he loosens and toes off his sneakers and throws his jacket on the bed. And I follow suit. The cracked tiles are cool under my feet as I peel the duster off and hang it behind the door. It’s like shedding snakeskin and I wonder how much this boy has changed me. But there’ll be time for philosophy later, in this moment there’s no armour, no protection, nothing to hide behind. This is now and this is real, and as he slides towards me and looks me in the eye, I’m lost and the music starts. The bass winds sinuously through the tiny space and my eyes are riveted on my boy.

 _See the stone set in your eyes  
See the thorn twist in your side  
I wait for you_

He moves forward and plasters himself against me and he’s so there – life, and blood, and heat, and hope, and as I run my fingers up his arms and they come to rest on either side of his head, I want to sink into the heat and the sensations ‘til I’m bathing in his now, and his then, and his future.

 _Sleight of hand and twist of fate  
On a bed of nails she makes me wait  
And I wait without you_

He’s going to have a future.

 _With or without you  
With or without you_

He curls one arm round my neck and the words slide over damp flesh and we sway, and stroke, and surge in time with the music.

 _Through the storm we reach the shore  
You give it all but I want more  
And I’m waiting for you_

We’re in a desert and the only moisture is right here, in sweat and unshed tears and just a hint of things unsaid as we kiss, and I stand here and think I could die again and never be happier

 _With or without you  
With or without you  
I can't live  
With or without you_

We’re so close, painted together and it’s a moment I want to keep in my head forever. Then, as the music tapers off and I can hear his breath, hot and heavy in my ear, another sound fills the room and I don’t know whether to laugh or thump him. The Girl from Ipanema starts to filter softly through the stifling air and my existence takes yet another left turn.

“You’ve got the weirdest tastes, pet.”

He chuckles against my neck and the vibrations travel all the way down as he shimmies in time with the beat. “I think I was in a strange mood when I put this tape together. Back in Sunnydale, all that talk about you and Dru travelling through South America made me kind of restless for something different, you know, something unexpected.”

‘Restless’, ‘unexpected’ – words to live your life by. I lean forward and whisper in his ear. “So, love. Just how far off that ledge are you?”

“Most of the way, I think. It’s scary, but I’m pretty sure I’ll survive. I’ve got friends and people who care about me. In the end that’s all it takes.”

“Am I your friend, pet?” Can’t believe how fucking needy I am.

He pauses for a second, head tilted to the side like he’s really considering the question. “No. You’re not my friend.” I stare at him for a moment, stunned by the answer, but before I can say anything, he’s off again. “I can’t even begin to understand what you are to me: lover, mentor, teacher, bullshitter, pain in the ass, guide – take your pick. But ‘friend’ seems such an inadequate word.”

“So, pet, will you come back to me?” Again with the needy.

“Do you have to ask?” He looks genuinely curious at the question.

“Suppose me asking undermines the whole ‘giving you a choice’, deal?”

“Kind of…” There’s a laugh in his voice, but it’s like he suddenly realises how serious I am and he watches me. And I watch back. It’s like someone’s switched the music off in my head and in the end I have to fill the silence.

"I’m not good at this, love. We don’t wait. Demons don’t wait.”

“But what about Spike?”

“What?” I know what he means, but I’m damned if I’m going to be psychoanalysed by a teenage boy. I’m damned whatever.

He shakes his head, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “I’m not talking about Demons. I’m not talking about Vampires. That’s so general. It’s like saying that all humans are like Ted Bundy because he’s human. What about Spike, what does he do?”

“I’m still a demon, pet. A demon with a devastatingly sexy, human form, but the school yard humour, with the eviscerations and ripping people’s heads off, is a dead give away.”

“That’s not confined to demons.” He stands for a moment, chewing his lip as he tries to find the words and the music washes over me as I watch him. “I suppose what I’m trying to say is, that I don’t care about species. I don’t care about genes. I care about individuals. That’s something you taught me. I care about Buffy because she’s trying so hard, even though she wants to be anywhere but there. I care about Wills, because god knows, I came so close to screwing our friendship and I couldn’t stand that. I even care about Giles, although he’d probably be shocked to hear it. One day Buffy’s going to die, and Giles is going to curl up in a corner and never come out and I hate the thought of it.” He pauses for a moment and traces one finger across my lips and I kiss it lightly as it flutters past. “And you? I care about you. It’s like you said, you’re possessive and obsessive, but you look at me and I feel so ‘here’. Like you really do see me. I love my girls, but you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like you understand.” He’s flushing so sweetly, like he’s embarrassed to expose so much.

“That’s ‘cause I do, love. I understand just fine.”

I pull him towards me and he’s trembling under my touch and it’s like the moment is just too much for him. I hold him as the tremors ebb and flow and then the music changes and his movement changes with it. Tom Waits is growling about Whistling Past the Graveyard and after a moment he’s shaking again. But as I push him back and tilt his head up, there aren’t any tears and the emotions of moments before have morphed into teenage giggles and I just stare at him. I’m not sure which one of us has lost the plot. After a moment, he calms down and runs a hand through his hair and grins sheepishly.

“Sorry, I got a bit carried away with the whole baring the soul thing, so the music took me a bit by surprise. I’d forgotten I’d put that song in the mix. At the time, it seemed kind of appropriate, with the whole Hellmouth background, but I didn’t actually anticipate smooching with a dead guy to it." He grins again. “I guess the word is ironic.”

“I think the words are ‘cheeky git’”.

“You keep calling me that. I think you need to expand your vocabulary a bit.” Oh he’s enjoying this and for a moment I’m content to lighten the mood.

“Maybe I do, pet. Maybe I’ll borrow that thesaurus of yours.”

“Yeah?” He’s been practising the eyebrow thing again.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t know about that. You might hold it hostage.”

“I might. Evil, undead, here.”

“So, what kind of ransom would you be after?” He’s biting his lip again and it’s so damn enticing as I run through a list of possible answer in my head.

“Hmm, that’s a hard one, love. Depends on how useful I found it. Depends on how hard it’d be to let go.”

I tilt my head and give him my patented ‘fuck me’ look and he shivers again. “Tell you what? Why don’t you demonstrate a bit of what you’d be willing to give, and we’ll take it from there.”

His eyes glitter in the sliver of moonlight peeking round the edges of the ragged drapes and I grab him by the belt and pull him back towards me. My hands begin to stroke languidly across his warm belly and round and up a strong back. I can feel the muscles play under my fingers as he moves with the music and there’s so much potential in this sweet, young body. He’s getting all grown up in his head, but he’s still got some growing to do and I can picture him a year from now – broader and taller and still so fucking sweet. And I’m going to be there to watch it happen.

His hands start their own dance up my spine, tracing circles against cool skin ‘til my T-Shirt is up round the back of my neck. He leans forward and nibbles gently on my lower lip and for a moment I let him take control. Soft kitty licks across mouth and jaw and ear, teasing and touching and tasting, ‘til I feel like my skin is alive under his caress. Then he’s back at my mouth, more insistent as he pushes inside, and I’m gone. Tongues meet and slide and suck and I feel like I can taste every emotion he’s ever had in that sweet, hot moment.

Eventually he pulls back and leans his forehead against mine, as he gets his breath back. “Oh boy!”

“Always so articulate, aren’t you, love?”

“That’s me, a word for every occasion. Usually not the right word, but there’s always something.” He straightens up and his hand meanders down my chest and comes to rest at the top of my jeans and it’s such sweet payment for my previous look. “So, will you take that as a deposit on the ransom?”

“Might do, pet. But it could be one genuine dollar on the top of a pile of blank paper. I think I need to check the rest of the merchandise.”

“Oh. Makes sense I guess.”

I slide my hands back under his shirt and pull it up and over his head and he mirrors the movement. Hands are at belt buckles and buttons and zips and denim slides off hips and pools in a heap on the floor.

Hot flesh slides against cool as we touch and trace and memorise the moment, and then I push him back and down onto the bed, soft, worn sheets bunching under his back as I lean down and kiss him again.

“So pet, going to let me teach you how to Tango?” The whisper seems to hang in the hot, heavy air and he shudders once as I crawl up towards him and spoil him for anyone else. Tom’s still rumbling in the background as I curl round and into his heat and we’re both gone.

That’s my boy. Going to let him fly for a while. See the world through his own eyes. But he’s tagged and he’s marked and he’s owned for anyone with eyes that can see. When he’s tired of travelling, he’ll head for home. And that’s where I’ll be. Waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys are back in Realisations which is also archived here at AO3 as well as on my LJ.
> 
> The songs/music featured are:
> 
> With Or Without You by U2 from The Joshua Tree
> 
> The Girl from Ipanema is the Bossa Nova classic written in 1962 with music by Antonio Carlos Jobim with Portuguese lyrics by Vinicius de Moraes.
> 
> Whistling Past the Graveyard from the Tom Waits album Blue Valentine.
> 
> The title of this chapter, Say Hello, Wave Goodbye is respectfully nicked from the song by the truly wonderful Soft Cell. I can just picture Spike and Xander at the Pink Flamingo Club - Hee!


End file.
